Amicable Parting
by Ardeth Saunders
Summary: An amicable parting leads to an explosive new beginning.
1. Amicable Parting

**TITLE****:  Amicable Parting**

**AUTHOR****:  Ardeth Saunders**

**RATING****:  R [Language, Violence, Adult Content]**

**SUMMARY****:  An amicable parting leads to an explosive new beginning.**

**DISCLAIMER****:  _UC:  Undercover _and its cast of characters belong to the writers, creators, NBC and a dozen others.  NO infringement intended.  All other original characters belong to the sick, twisted, and sometimes vivid imagination of the author.  Please DO NOT use any original concepts, characters, or content of this story without the express permission of the author. **

**A/N****:  Special thanks to Shel, Dawn, and SheRArena.  You three are the bestest, hands down.**

***  *  ***

AMICABLE PARTING 

Frank Donovan had had two tragedies on this day.  The first was losing a very young hostage after a hellish four-day standoff.  The victim was a little boy, no more than five.  His superiors had told him he had done everything in his power to prevent the boy's death, but it still didn't stop him from feeling more than responsible.  It wasn't that this boy's death was his first loss.  It had happened before, of course, but not to a victim so young.  It tore into his heart, ripping into it like no bullet manufactured on earth.  It had influenced him to make a decision that would forever change his life, but before he took that step, there was someone he had to see.  That someone was the second tragedy of his day.  His lover, Aila Blane, was a detective with the Chicago police.  He had met her when he took his first assignment in the K & R squad.  At that time, she was a rookie patrol officer who was one among the first teams on the scene of a bank hostage crisis.  She was decked out in full regalia:  heavy BDU's, combat boots, and a cap stuffed down on her head.  However, her eyes stood out dramatically.  They were ice blue.  They worked side-by-side that day, barely sharing four words between them.  

When all was said and done, Frank was invited out for drinks, and he saw the Scottish beauty in the same bar with a few of her PD brethren.  It was then that he learned her hair was long, thick, and jet-black.  She was absolutely gorgeous and more than once, their eyes met as if from a cliché scene in a romance novel.  How long had he sat behind the bar with his buddy before finally deciding to send her a drink?  Minutes?  Hours?  An eternity?  He watched, amused, as she peered down at the shot of whiskey he had sent her.  She looked up at him, her chin lifted defiantly, and then she downed the shot without the blink of an eye.  Immediately, Frank decided that this woman had style.  He definitely wanted to get to know her.  When she finished the shot, she nodded toward him, asking him to join her without words.  It took approximately fifteen seconds for Frank to find his way to a space beside her at the bar.  Always thinking of himself as brash Mr. Sexy Cool Guy where women were concerned, he had to admit he was a bit spurned when Aila turned down his first invitation to go out.  Hell, he had sent over a drink.  That should have been enough.  However, he soon realized that the lovely Ms. Blane was already heavily involved with another man.  Indignant, he wasn't altogether certain why she accepted his drink.  If he had been his younger self, he might have said something rude to her and went on about his life, but he didn't.  Instead, he stayed and listened to her colorful tales of life as a female beat officer.

After that first meeting, he saw her now and again, but never quite got her completely out of his system.  On one particularly long and harrowing night, he found himself wandering over to the bar where he had bought Aila's first drink.  Oddly enough, she was there as well.  From the looks of her, she had been nursing her drink a good hour and a half.  For a moment, Frank considered leaving her to her thoughts as she seemed preoccupied and distant.  However, yet another internal nudge pushed him forward.  Aila wasn't exactly drunk, but she was upset.  Frank didn't know her well enough to judge how she would react to his interrupting her during her bizarre meditation.  Unbeknownst to Frank, Aila recognized his cologne before him.  She glanced up at the surly FBI man and had the greatest urge to annoy the crap out of him.  Like Frank, she was listening to another part of her brain tonight.  For fifteen minutes or more, they made idle chitchat until Aila did the unexpected.  She burst into tears.  Quickly, Frank moved in to comfort her.  After tremendous coaxing, Aila finally told him the story.  She had been running down a young perp and the creep took a small child hostage.  She had done everything in her power to convince the guy to release the kid, but he wouldn't.  Basically, the kid had died a gruesome death at the hands of her perp.  Aila wasn't one to forgive herself very easily.  In that moment, Frank finally believed he had found someone who truly understood.  She cried on Frank's shoulder until she was embarrassed.  After that, he drove her back to her small one-bedroom apartment.  

Once at her place, she didn't immediately exit his vehicle.  Instead, she sat and silently contemplated her next move.  She hadn't lied when she told Frank that she was involved with someone else.  She was…or had been…actually.  Her year-long relationship with Howie [_How did I ever manage to date a guy named Howie?  What the hell was I thinking?_] Blass ended abruptly two days ago.  Howie was a cop, too, and had suddenly taken an interest in one of the newer female rookies [_Tits and ass.  A blonde, of course.  What else?_].  And like a stray piece of string hanging off her tee shirt, she cut him off.  Just like that.  No goodbyes.  No nothing.  That's the way she had always worked.  After all, she hadn't been in love with the dork, but it took twelve months for her to realize that.  

She glanced at the man seated beside her.  Frank truly intrigued her.  He had done so since the first night she laid eyes on him.  She liked how forward he was, how dominant he appeared without actually being such.  She also enjoyed his reaction to her refusal of his advances.  He had a look about him that first night, like a guy who never hears the word 'no.'  At least not willingly.  She could almost sense that he was more complicated than he let on.  He was good looking [_hot_] and soft-spoken with the most expressive eyes she had ever seen on another human being.  Swallowing her pride, she invited him inside for a caffeine-loaded cup of coffee.  He wanted to refuse; she could plainly see that in his eyes.  There was a quiet reluctance about him, one little thing buried beneath his arrogant veneer that not many people had touched.  She wasn't so sure he'd allow some rookie beat cop a chance to dig it out.  Whatever the case, he accepted and followed her to her apartment.

Conversation was light and dull while Aila's ancient coffee maker went through the motions of brewing its owner her millionth pot.  As soon as it began making its machine gun-like popping sounds, she knew it was finished.  She stood to retrieve two mugs, but before she could move another inch, she felt the presence of a masculine body smacked right up against her.  She reasoned later that he must have gotten up to assist her with the coffee.  After all, she had had a little to drink.  Of course, she wasn't worried about it, either.  When he felt her trying to turn around, he stepped back a few steps.  The moment her eyes met his, it was pretty much all over for her.  Before she knew it, he was kissing her, and doing so breathlessly.  Oh his lips.  Oh his hands.  They were amazing wonders all their own.  She told herself a million times that she wouldn't sleep with him.  She knew very little about him.  Hell, outside his name and occupation, she was pretty damn sure she didn't have a clue about anything else.  Despite her nonstop inner battle, the war raged on, and she lost.  The next thing she knew, it was almost four in the morning and they were still in bed going at it.  By the time the sun rose, they finally fell into an exhausted daze that led to sleep.

After that, a regular 'thing' developed between them.  Neither considered what they were doing 'dating.'  Actually, it was fairly hard to describe.  They met.  They went bar hopping.  Sometimes, they ate dinner.  Sometimes, they went to a movie.  Sometimes, they went to her place and had dinner.  Mostly, they were in bed.  It was the hardest thing to reconcile.  Was it just lust holding them together?  God forbid they tried to have an adult conversation without sex.  Then, they would both have to open up and…gasp…get to know each other.  However, neither realized that they _were_ getting to know each other in between their meetings and bed.  Still, it disturbed Aila that Frank didn't open up much about his life.  She did most of the talking and once apologized for her motor-mouth, but Frank just laughed, saying that he enjoyed hearing her talk, listening to her voice.  He certainly heard it plenty.  When they were in bed together, she would often be awake long after he fell asleep.  She would try everything in her mortal power to understand him, to dig into his dark chest of secrets.  Hell, it then dawned on her that they hadn't spent the night at his place ever.  

After the first night she spent with Frank, Aila thought their relationship would span no more than a few weeks.  Yet, before she knew what hit her, she realized that she and Frank had been together nearly eight months.  It was weird.  Neither of them ever said word one about having a steady relationship, but it seemed to be happening before their very eyes.  They didn't talk about it.  They let it go.  Besides, Aila couldn't discuss their 'thing' with a straight face and was pretty damn sure Frank couldn't, either.  They just weren't that type of couple.  So, they _didn't _discuss it.  In fact, Aila was pretty damn sure she would have never set foot in his apartment at all if it hadn't been for the flu.

Of course, it wasn't Frank's flu.  However, Aila wouldn't know that for a few hours.  She had called to bug him about something and his superior told her that he had rushed home due to an emergency.  Her heart immediately stopped in her chest.  Without thinking, without calling first, she jumped into her car and drove like a bat out of hell to his apartment building.  She took the stairs two at time [_Why oh why does he have to live on the top damn floor of a twelve story building?_] until she reached his door.  The door was unlocked, so she had no qualms about barging in.  Why would he mind?  They had been sleeping together for several months.  The moment she set foot in his apartment, she was met with a sight so unexpected that she actually placed her hand over her heart and gasped aloud.  Sitting with the man she'd slept with more than any other she had ever known, was a petite twentysomething woman with golden-hazel eyes and chestnut hair.  Between them lay a small female child of about five.  She was obviously Frank's kid.  The hair and skin tone gave it away.  She understood plenty now.  So angry was she that she couldn't find her voice to scream at him.

"Sorry," she mumbled stupidly.

Aila turned in the opposite direction and made for the door, nearly stumbling on her feet as she did.  She cursed him and cursed herself for feeling like this.  Why did it hurt so much?  _In love, in love, in love.  You're in love.  _Oh and what a fool she was.  What kind of detective did she think she'd make with such _sharp _skills as hers?  Shouldn't she have gotten a hint that he was married just from the evasive way he acted?  _Son of a bitch doesn't even wear a goddamn ring_.  She actually made it out to her car before she heard the slap of Frank's feet as he pushed his body to catch up to her.

"Aila, wait," Frank called.

She turned to face him and she noticed how he recoiled from her.  Was her expression that hideous?  _Good.  Prick.  _"For what?  For your wife to invite me over for tea and sugar cookies?"

"She's not my wife," he said through a heavy sigh.  "Not anymore.  We've been divorced almost two years."

"And you didn't trust me enough to tell me," she asked incredulously.  "I suppose I _am _a recreational piece of ass on the side."

Although he felt horrid about the way she discovered his well-kept secrets, he felt a bit pissy as well.  "I thought you didn't want entanglements, Aila?"

She bit her bottom lip, bit it hard, and then graced him with a bitter smile.  "You sanctimonious son of a bitch.  I think you got that wrong.  Wasn't it _you_ who didn't want that, oh Holder of Many Dark Secrets?  That's okay.  You can consider this _entanglement _over.  Have a nice life."

He grabbed her arm before she could move away.  "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner.  I'm sorry for everything.  Please.  Give me a chance to see you so I can explain."  She tried to wrench her arm free of his iron grip, but he held tight.  "Please, Aila.  I love you."

The moment 'I love you' left his lips she forgot everything.  He could have shot her and she would have forgiven him.  After that, their relationship changed for the good.

For the good… 

Frank paced the short distance between the door and the window of Aila's room approximately five million times.  A perp had shot her.  The injury wasn't life threatening, but she had to have surgery.  At the moment, she was sleeping off the anesthesia, and Frank was losing his patience.  He wanted her to open her eyes and give him some kind of hint that she was going to be all right.  She was tough, but not a super human warrior woman.  After several moments, he walked around to the nearest vacant space on her bed and sat down.  He had worn himself out worrying and pacing.  He gazed down at her, almost willing her to open her eyes.  Regardless of his stubbornness, the anesthesia was simply too strong.  Frank glanced down at his wristwatch.  Noting the time, he thought, _I'll just make it_.

When the anesthesia finally decided to weaken its grip on Aila, her eyes came open slowly.  At first, she didn't understand what was going on.  She had forgotten being shot, but when she moved, the pain screamed out at her, quickly refreshing her memory.  _Oh, goddamn goddamn.  If I had five more minutes alone with the creep, I'd shoot off his big toe.  _She didn't know how she knew, but she was aware that Frank had been with her.  Perhaps she had sensed his presence.  Perhaps there was still a hint of his cologne in the air.  Whatever she sensed, he was gone now.  Her mind was foggy, but she thought something was going on at his daughter's school tonight.  Hadn't she made plans to leave work early to go?  _It's kinda hard for a detective to make **plans **for anything_.  

Yet, it was even harder to deny the little miss.  She had even begun to carry a picture of the girl in her wallet.  Aila had always loved children.  Although shocked at first to discover her lover had a daughter, as soon as she met Darien, she was hooked.  Oddly enough, even the ex-wife wasn't so bad.  She had remarried and there was no chance of reconciliation.  Of course, Aila wouldn't admit jealousy in a thousand years.  

Aila shifted position in her bed and grimaced.  Damn bullets.  They did so much damage without hardly any force.  This wasn't her first time to be shot, but it didn't matter.  It freaked her out all the same.  She watched dully as the door came open.  Figuring it was a member of the hospital staff, she closed her eyes to play dead.  Maybe they would leave her alone.  Soon enough, she recognized the silent, tentative movement, the almost undetectable respiration.  Surely he wouldn't skip out on his daughter because of her?  

"What are you doing here," she asked suddenly.  "You're supposed to be there for Darien tonight.  You can't disappoint her, Frank."

He was surprised that she could think of his daughter at a time like this.  Frank moved over to her bed sat down.  "Aila, don't worry about that.  That's not tonight.  It's next week."

"Oh," she sighed.  "That's right."  His hand came out and took hers.  Instinctively, she entwined her fingers with his.  Pieces of her memory came to her a little at a time.  "Oh Jesus, Frank," she whispered.  "The little boy.  Oh God, I'm sorry.  I heard about that before…this happened."

It amazed him how she could turn around a serious situation involving herself and focus it around something else.  Frank chewed on his bottom lip for the briefest of moments.  There was so much he wanted to say, so much they needed to talk about, but he wasn't certain this was the time.  It was bizarre, really.  Four days ago when he left the comfort of his bed and Aila's arms, he had no idea how dramatically his life would change.  The question was would Aila be willing to accept the changes and go along with him?

"I'm glad you came out unscathed."

He smiled at her a trifle sadly.  Her soft voice had broken him out of his trance.  "Too bad not everyone did.  I truly thought I'd lost you."

"Well…you did…sort of.  I have a few pieces of missing skin," she said with a gentle smile curling her lips.

For the good… 

_Today is the day_.  Frank rode up to the fifth floor in the sprawling hospital complex.  This would be Aila's last night here.  He intended to make it a memorable one.  When he entered her room, he noticed that she had shrugged into a robe.  She had finally healed enough where she could get up and move around for short periods of time.  His euphoric mood immediately dwindled just the slightest as he took note of her facial expression.  It was hard to read.  Was it resignation?  Regret?  What was this?

"Aila?"

She jumped as if shocked and whirled around to face him.  Quickly…much too quickly…her expression changed.  "I didn't know you were coming today."

The goofy smile he had been wearing since he stepped off the elevator was wiped off now.  "Aila, what's wrong?"

_How does he **do** that_?  The day before, he had told her he was leaving K & R.  Today, she was making her own changes.  "I think after tomorrow, I'm going to visit my family for a while.  Get out of town.  My hometown offered me a job.  They need a police chief and apparently, they think I qualify."  Everything she said was a pack of lies.  All of it.

Nonsensically, he stuffed his hand into his coat pocket as if searching for his phone.  "What are you saying?"

"I accepted the position and I'm going home.  My brother is flying in tomorrow night to help me pack."

Part of Frank Donovan was cold and emotionless.  Yet, at the moment, other forces ruled him today.  "What the hell happened in two days, Aila?"

"Something significant, Frank.  Just like you."

"Goddamn it, Aila, you're…"  He stopped talking.  He couldn't say it.

"I'm what," she asked.  "Breaking your heart?  You can't even say what's inside it.  So, I suppose this is a good thing.  Seriously, Frank, you know neither of us ever wanted long time commitments or marriage.  For God's sake, didn't you tell me that after your first marriage, you would never want to marry again?  It's for the best.  You're changing your life because of the death of a child.  I was part of that old life.  You'll have a new one so that means new people.  New girlfriends."

Frank wanted to scream, yell, and curse.  But he couldn't.  If she wanted to be cold and flat, he could play the game.  _But this is no game.  I love her_!  She was one element in his life that he didn't want changing.  Could she not see that?  "Is this what you want," he choked out.

She nodded.  "Yes."  _No_.  "It is."

He nodded, intentionally mocking her.  "Okay."  _It's not okay_.  "I'll go now."

"Thank you," she said quietly, turning her head away.  "I appreciate that."

Keeping his hand in his coat pocket, he turned around and left the room.  He wasted no time approaching the elevator and stabbing the 'down' button.  As he waited, his eyes wondered over to a wastebasket tucked neatly into a corner.  Absently, he strolled toward the wastebasket and stared down into it.  It was the tidiest garbage bin he had ever seen.  There wasn't a scrap of paper inside it.  It was time to deflower it.  He took his hand out of his coat pocket.  For a moment, he stared down at the box that appeared so very tiny in his large paw.  He glanced back at Aila's room door, wondering if he should just do it or let it go.  As usual, he made the wrong choice.  Instead of depositing the box into the wastebasket, he stuffed it back into his pocket.  

_For the good…_

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**                            


	2. Back Home Again

BACK HOME AGAIN

Three Years Later

As soon as the alarm clock began its never ending screeching, Aila reached over and turned it off.  She could tell by the way she felt that her day would be a bad one.  Feeling as if she had a massive hangover, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up.  Five seconds later, she buried her face in her hands.  Dear Lord, why couldn't she get going?  It wasn't like she didn't have a billion things to do before she came home tonight.  Perhaps the sitter could help tame her small, but wild son for a few hours.  There was to be a big meeting with the city council tonight, and of course it _had _to be held in her home.  She had tried everything in her mortal power to beg off, but nothing she said worked.  To top it all off, it was her day to baby-sit the county jail.  It didn't help that today was visitation and her weak ass deputy thought he was too good to supervise the comings and goings of teary-eyed Mommas, slut-clothed girlfriends, and whiny children.  _They relate so much better to you, Sheriff_, the deputy often said.  _They don't like me.  _He could say whatever he wanted, but the fact remained that he simply didn't want to bother with it.  It was more fun running his cruiser up and down the graveled county roads searching for marijuana or meth to seize while his cruiser ate up taxpayer dollars.  _I'm not bitter, damn it.  I'm just having a bad day_, she thought as she finally raised her head.  _Oh great, it's dreary_.  Everything was falling perfectly in line to piss her off.

It had been a little over three years since Aila had said an unceremonious goodbye to Frank Donovan and Chicago, Illinois.  Quite a lot had changed for her.  Although the story of her new job had been a horrendous lie to the man she loved, a good friend of hers on the city council had cajoled her into running for sheriff.  Up until then, she had basically done nothing but pined and mooched off her parents.  Yes.  It was time to get off her duff and get going again.  She hadn't lived in Pineville, Kansas for a good ten years, but everyone still knew her.  Her father was a mainstay in town.  He was one of only three business owners and his grocery store was about the only place some of the old-timers could shop.  Ironically enough, she ran against her old high school boyfriend.  He had been sheriff a good ten years himself.  When she laid eyes on his bald skull and paunchy stomach, she had to ask herself what the hell she saw in him back then.  Of course, he couldn't compare to Frank.  Not then.  Not now.  Not ever.  She ran against him and won by a mere five votes.  It wasn't a miracle landslide win, but good enough.  Pineville was a sleepy little mid-western town and didn't hold a candle to Chicago.  Aila longed to go back, to go back to _him_.  Yet, it was just as well that she didn't.  Men like Frank Donovan didn't stay single long.  _Come on, Aila.  That's your past.  He's part of your history now.  You might as well face it before you drive yourself batty._   

Shrugging away the overwhelming urge to whine and pitch a fit like a wayward child, Aila stood up and grabbed her robe.  Before beginning her daily rituals, she stepped up to her vanity bureau.  If she didn't get moving, she would be late.  Before she stripped and jumped into the shower, she crept silently down the narrow hallway to her son's room.  Ethan was still asleep in his first big boy bed.  God, how it had hurt her heart to discard his crib.  Her baby boy was growing up so fast.  He was basically a good kid and would stay asleep until she finished her shower if she left him alone.  That was the thing, though.  She didn't like leaving him alone.  If she wasn't ruffling his hair, she was kissing his cheek, or running her hand over his perfect little face.  She was surprised she hadn't spoiled the hell out of him.  But then again, he was calm and controlled like his father.  Fighting the urge to run her fingers through his silky hair, she went back toward her bedroom to start readying for her endless day.  She had all night to fawn and coo over her kid.  

Aila was completely dressed and putting the finishing touches to her hair when she noticed she had company.  Ethan had finally grown tired of sleeping and decided to make his presence known.  He stood quietly in the doorway, one small fist rubbing the sleep out of his eye, the other clutching his favorite stuffed animal, a monkey he called "Bo."  He was only three going on four, but looked like the world's smallest adult just getting out of bed.  For the most part, he looked like her, but he was going to be tall and lanky like his dad.  He watched patiently as she whipped her long hair into a braid that she tucked under and pinned down.  Once that task was complete, she turned her attention toward him and swept him up in her arms.  Ethan squealed in delight and dropped Bo so he could throw his little arms around her neck.  He gave her an enormous hug.  She couldn't quite return it as enthusiastically, because she would probably break his neck and she didn't want to do that.  

Aila gave Ethan a noisy kiss on his cheek.  "Well, good morning to you, my little man.  What'cha want for breakfast kiddo?"

He grew pensive for half a second as if mulling over the mysteries of the pyramids.  "Ethan want Kappie."

'Kappie' was Ethan's name for his favorite cereal with the cartoon guy in the nautical hat.  She could never remember the name of that stuff.  "Uh, now, your grandma and Lila may give that to you, boyo, but Momma is a different story.  Pick something else."

He huffed.  "Okay," he said dejectedly.  

Aila wanted to laugh out loud.  They had this discussion every day.  Every day Ethan asked for his cereal, every day she denied him.  She would then feed him something good for him and give him juice.  When his sitter, Lila, arrived, she would give him his beloved Kappie.  She had given up throwing out the cereal, because every time she did, somebody always bought him more.  Without continuing the cereal argument, Aila carried Ethan into the kitchen and sat him down in his booster.  He had grown much too big for a highchair.  It was another thing that broke her heart.  Although her mother would argue with her, she was certain that Ethan would be an only child.  She hadn't had an inkling of an interest in any man.  For one thing, she knew all of them, knew more than she cared to admit.  For another, she was still hung up on that damn Frank Donovan.  It didn't matter that their relationship was three years dead.  She had truly loved him, but had to leave for her own reasons.  Again, she told herself that he was probably taken.  Perhaps Logan's marriage ended and she went back to Frank.  They already had a kid to tie them together; it would only take a few nudges in the right direction to bring about reconciliation.  After all, she would jump at the chance to see him again.  _God.  Stop it.  Feed your kid.  Eat your own breakfast and get over it._  

By the time Aila finished her second cup of coffee, Lila was blowing through the front door as if she were a mid-western version of the Santa Ana.  It was Aila's cue to get her ass up and grab the keys to the souped up Bronco the city had procured for exclusive 'sheriffing' use.  In other words, it was time to go to work.  No matter how much she was putting it off, she could ignore it no longer.  Lila's presence told her so.  She gave her son another kiss and hugged him.  He barely noticed her departure.  He was too involved in making a gigantic mess of his breakfast.  She slipped out the door into a dreary, dreary day.  Before long, she was almost positive it would start raining.  Aila was somewhat superstitious like her Scottish grandmother.  She sensed the cloudy day as a bad sign of sorts.  She shrugged it off, laughing a little.  It had been years since she jumped at shadows.  Now wasn't a time to start doing it.  

Hesitating only a moment, she hopped into the Bronco, strapped herself in, and put the key in the ignition.  When the engine roared to life, her radio roared right along with it.  This morning, there wasn't much going on.  Her deputy was busy jawing with dispatch about something uninteresting.  Selfish bastard.  He had a thing for the pretty dispatcher and he chatted her up at least eleven out of his twelve hours on shift.  Well, she wouldn't say anything to him just yet.  She would wait to pay him back after visitation day.  How would he like to pull a double this weekend?  She could take her kid to the park and spend the day playing with him.  That's exactly what she would do.  Annoyed now, she snapped off the radio.  It was bad form to say the least, but she was tired of listening to Barney Fife trying to make his sweet Juanita.  

She pulled the Bronco into her assigned slot and frowned when rain began to fall.  Terrific.  Not only did she have to deal with visitation, but it was raining, too.  That meant the lobby would be filled to capacity with dozens of people.  When she saw her deputy, she was going to wring his turkey waddling neck.  She used her passkey and slipped into the office.  Beck's voice was carrying to the break room in the back.  An image of Barney Fife singing "Juanita" came into her mind again and she nearly fell over from hysterics.  She had to stop.  Aila noticed that Beck had brewed a pot of coffee.  Of course, her mug was in her office and she would have to pass her deputy to get it.  Oh well, it would end Beck's love call.

Quietly, Aila slipped into the main room.  Beck had his skinny body leaned over the receiving desk.  The dispatcher had suddenly gotten quiet.  She had seen Aila entering.  _Oh God.  He even looks like Barney Fife.  Lord help me_.  "Beck, what the hell are you doing?"

The deputy spun around with swiftly reddening ears.  "Ah, uh, hi there, Sheriff.  How's your morning?"

She smiled.  "Obviously not as good as yours.  Get your skinny ass home, Beck.  The shift's changed.  Take Mildeen with you.  Buy her a cup of coffee."

"Oh, sure," he said, embarrassed.  "By the way, Sheriff, my cruiser's knockin' something fierce.  I think it's time to send it to the masher."

Aila sighed heavily.  Beck had been driving a cruiser probably a good thirty years old.  Pineville didn't have a whole lot of funds to begin with, and her department had even less than that.  However, she figured there would be enough to buy a used cruiser.  "I think you're right, Beck.  I've got the council tonight at my place.  I'll talk to the treasurer and see what we can do.  I know you need the car.  I'll fight the best I can.  Now get your skinny ass gone before I make you do the visitation."

She stood back and watched silently as Beck and Mildeen left the office.  Aila came back from around the receiving area and let herself out into the main lobby.  Her relief junior deputy was due to be at work within the hour.  By then, the people would begin drifting in to see the prisoners.  Until then, she decided to go to her office for a few moments of down time.  She was irritated about having to ask for a new cruiser.  The city council should just give permission for it and have done with it.  But they didn't work that way.  The town treasurer, Sybil, was actually one of her closest friends.  She had a beauty shop down the street from the office and the meetings usually ran around her busy schedule.  Much like her father, Sybil's shop was the only one of its kind in town.  She was quite the popular lady.  

Pineville kept two sets of books.  One of them was always at the mayor's office or with Sybil.  She didn't like letting them out of her sight.  The other, a small budget book, was always with Aila.  She kept close watch on the department's funds.  It was an administrative role, but part of her job.  She had never been a number cruncher, but again, she refused to depend on another person for her funds.  She dug her key ring out of her blouse pocket, selected the proper key, and inserted it into the lock of her private filing cabinet.  She dug around the clutter in the top drawer, overlooking the small petty cash bag, stray bullets without guns, the city checkbook.  She spied the ledger she tracked meticulously and snagged it.  She impatiently tossed it upon her desk before closing the drawer and locking the cabinet.  And only doing it because she was alone, she sat back in her chair, propping her feet upon her desk.  She flipped open the ledger and began the task of checking out the funds.  Ah yes.  More than enough for a used car.

*  *  *

Aila dragged her tired body into her house.  She had about twenty minutes to get ready for the council meeting.  She hoped Ethan was knocked out and would stay that way for the next hour or so.  Before she could say a word, Lila told her that Ethan was napping.  Aila nodded and smiled.  Thank God.  She started toward her bedroom, but couldn't resist making a pit stop by Ethan's room.  However, he wasn't sleeping as she expected.  To her heart's dismay, he had found the framed picture of his father and he was gazing at it curiously.  She had shown him the picture and told him about his father, but it hadn't stopped his own curiosity.  She often found him with the picture and it literally broke her heart.  She had hid it numerous times, but Ethan somehow always managed to find it.  He was quite the investigator.

She stepped into his room and sat down on the floor beside him.  "What'cha doing, kid?"

He grinned up at her.  "Lookin' at Daddy," he answered simply.  "Is okay?"

Aila swallowed a lump.  She hated cheating the boy out of his father, but her hands were tied.  "Yeah, baby, it's okay."

"Can Ethan keep?"

She nodded.  "Of course you can."  She wanted nothing more than to take the picture and hide it again.  But what good would it do?  He'd only find it.  "Can you be a good boy for me tonight?  Will you mind Lila?"

He nodded enthusiastically.  "Sure!"  The exuberance went out of his face for a moment.  "Momma sad?"

"Am I sad," Aila repeated.  "No, baby, I'm not sad.  Keep the picture."  She kissed the top of his head.  "Momma loves Ethan."

By the time Aila was showered and changed, she could hear the loud voice of Sybil in the kitchen.  She had obviously told Lila a joke and they were laughing loud enough to wake the dead.  She loved both women, but sometimes, they were a pain the ass.  Before she entered the kitchen, she stopped by her wet bar and poured herself a good stiff drink.  She watched the other women for a while before she made her presence known.  Lila saw her first and excused herself.  Council meetings were boring and she had no interest.  Besides, Aila had a computer in her home office and Lila had herself an on-line boyfriend.

"You don't look so hot, Aila," Sybil said as she swiped at a stray curl of hair.

She shrugged.  "I don't feel so hot, either.  Shitty day at work.  Beck conned me into doing visitation again and then Ethan…"  She stopped talking.  She didn't want to go into it.

"What about him?  What did he do this time?  I swear that kid is wilder than you ever were."

Aila shook her head.  "He didn't do anything, not exactly.  He was just…"

"Just what," she asked nosily.  "Did he find his daddy's picture again?"

Aila took a sip of her drink and allowed the liquid fire to sooth her.  "Yeah."  She sighed heavily and moved toward the sofa.  She leaned against the arm of it and brought her drink up her lips again.  "But then I don't exactly hide it that well, either.  He knows about his father.  I've told him everything he can understand at his age.  Somehow, I know there is so much missing for him, and it's wrong.  I wish I could change it."

"Oh, darlin,' I didn't mean to get you all upset," Sybil said.  

"It's not your fault," Aila insisted.  "I know it's only going to get worse the older he gets, but I suppose I'll deal with that when the time comes.  Right now, he's a sweet little boy who loves his Momma and his stuffed monkey.  I don't want to take that away from him.  You want something to drink, Syb?"

"Naw," she said.  "I get all emotional when I drink.  You don't want to see that."

Aila laughed.  "That might be entertaining, though."  She glanced at the wall clock and noticed that it was going on six.  The rest of the crew was late, of course.  This meeting would be a long one.  "Syb, before the gang gets here, I'm going to make a request right now.  Beck's old cruiser has just about had it.  He needs another.  I was skimming over my books and saw that we have more than enough to get a used cruiser.  Will you jump in on my side before Wes, Hargrove, and the mayor begin bellyaching?  They already think our budget is inflated as it is."

"Uh, sure," she said.  "I can check the balances and make sure everything is in line.  Did you bring your ledger with you?"

"No, I left it with Matt at the office.  If anyone's numbers are bad, it'll be mine," she said with a rueful laugh.  "I'm not a mathematics whiz."

Sybil leaned down and grabbed a briefcase that she had tucked neatly between her feet.  She popped it open and dug around inside it until she found the official books.  Aila watched curiously as her friend went over the figures.  "Aila, I hate to say it since you got your heart set on it, but I don't see enough to buy a car, or even enough for a down payment," she said.

"You've got to be kidding, right," Aila said, astonished.  "I just looked at my figures.  We haven't had many expenditures."

Sybil slid her finger along her entries.  "Well, I see a new tracking system bought for your Bronco two months ago.  That was a pretty penny."  She licked her finger and continued.  "Also, I see that you bought five or six new uniforms for the crew."  Another thoughtful lick of the finger.  "And…there were some cleaning supplies bought for the jail."

"I'm aware of all those expenditures, but I didn't realize they were that costly."

Sybil nodded.  "Yep.  A shock, isn't it?  Maybe you can con the mayor into releasing some money from one of his stuffed projects?  He's got a ton of money set aside for the parks system.  And you know as well as I that he isn't going to do anything with that money but sit on it."

Aila shook her head.  "It just doesn't make sense.  I'll speak to Mayor Allred and see what we can do."  She looked up when she noticed a set of headlights swiftly approaching.  She would recognize the car anywhere.  "Speak of the devil and he appears."

*  *  *

Much later, Aila finally had her house to herself.  Lila was gone and Ethan tucked snuggly in bed.  She retired to her bedroom where she dug out a notebook and pen.  Sitting quietly, thoughtfully, she chewed on the pen cap before she began scratching out a few words here and there.  She looked down at the paper and realized that what she was doing was idiocy.  How could she write him after so long a time?  What could she say?  What would he want from her now?  Sighing, she tossed the notebook aside.  Dog ass tired now, she stripped down to nothing and fell face first onto her bed.  

Sybil's words tonight disturbed her more than the half-assed attempt at writing a letter.  How in the hell could her budget be sucked dry?  It wasn't remotely close to the end of the fiscal year.  Hell, she was one of the most frugal sheriffs Linker County had ever seen.  Nothing made sense.  She trusted Sybil, but tomorrow morning, she would visit City Hall and take a look at the books to see where she had gone wrong.

**____________________**

**To be continued…**  

  __


	3. Frank's Turn

FRANK'S TURN

On the morning Aila Blane experienced her non-hangover, Frank Donovan had just risen from bed as well.  However, unlike Aila, today was a dead day.  He had somehow managed to squeeze out a day off and he was using it to its fullest extent.  They were few and far between.  Frank stretched just the slightest and shifted his body weight.  He felt a slight chill in the air and opened his eyes.  Ah.  No cover on a nude body.  That would do it every time.  He wanted to grab the sheet and pull it over him, but the girl lying next to him had effectively wrapped her body in it.  It reminded him of a mummy's shroud.  What exactly had he done last night?  Backtracking in his mind while he began tugging gently on the sheet [his ass was about a third covered now], his evening slowly began to come to him.  

He had had Darien for the past month while Logan and her husband were taking an extended vacation.  He dropped off the kid and had actually started toward his lonely twelfth floor apartment.  Without Darien there, it was too quiet.  The more time he spent alone, the more time he spent ruminating over the girl who got away.  He often kicked himself for thinking of Aila Blane all the time.  How often in three years did she think of him?  Zero.  Steering himself away from home, he thought he could benefit from a good, stiff drink.  He nearly laughed himself silly when he strolled into the very bar where he had met Aila.  Could he help it if he liked the place?  It was actually where he came to drink all the time before he met her.  _That's right.  It's my place.  It was my place before I laid eyes on her_.  Eyes.  Ice blue.  Jesus.  It followed him everywhere.  When he first met Alex, he wasn't sure how well he would get on with her when he saw that she had Aila's eyes.  He moved through the crowd of regulars, thankful that none of them were on his team.  He didn't go out much now, there wasn't time, but he rued the day he accidentally ran into one of the crew.  

Instead of selecting a stool at the bar, he chose a table in a far, dark corner.  He ordered his usual from a pretty server.  When she left him alone, he dug out his cell phone, and felt a smile spreading on his face.  Apparently before Darien went to bed, she had somehow convinced her mother to allow her to send him a text message.  The message nearly screamed at him:  _GOOD NIGHT, DAD!_  As much as Aila did, he mourned his child's babyhood.  She was eight going on thirty and he felt old, old, old.  To humor the kid, he sent back a brief message of his own.  She wouldn't see it until tomorrow morning, but that was all right.  He then tucked away his phone and waited patiently for his drink.  Just before it was brought to him, he recognized laughter coming from close behind him.  Curious, he turned in his seat to see who it was.  There were two women sitting together a few tables behind him.  One was a blonde, the other a redhead.  The redhead he knew from his building.  Her apartment was on the tenth floor.  They had a normal 'stranger' type relationship.  A hello here on the elevator, a good morning there in the laundry room.  However, his attention was focused on the blonde.  She was striking, actually, and he vaguely wondered what he could do to be introduced to her.  His infallible plan was to simply walk by their table.  It actually worked and before long, he was seated with them.  And not long after that, the blonde was playing right into his hands.  He drank more than he should have, but he let himself go.  He had the next day off and could afford a day in bed with a hangover.  What harm was there in that?  None, of course.

Now, this morning, Frank was in bed with the blonde and somewhat hard pressed to remember what happened last night.  Part of him felt like a shit for taking this woman he didn't know to bed.  He had done a good fair share of that lately and it tweaked his nerves when he realized that he was trying his best to drive Aila Blane out of his mind.  She left him on the very day he had planned to ask her to marry him.  He recalled asking his younger sister, Terra, to help him pick out the ring.  It had been a few years since he had shopped for such a significant piece of jewelry.  His marriage to Logan had begun on a rocky note and they were separated longer than they were married.  He definitely didn't want to screw this up.  Aila meant a lot to him and he couldn't fathom the idea of having a life without her in it.  For God's sake, even _Logan _was asking him when they would marry.  He had been scorned by love.  Big deal.  It happened to a lot of men and women.  It was time to get over it and get on with his life.  Yet, the only significant relationship he could support was with his daughter.  He didn't want anything else, because he couldn't take it.  Terra had lectured him more than once about it, but what could he truly say?  He was still pining over a woman who had been out of his life for three years?  Did he expect her to be single to this day?  Did he expect her to be waiting for him somewhere?  He had no earthly idea where she had gone.  Even if he had known, did he expect a woman like that to be unattached?  Aila had never been single.  Frank groaned and yanked on the sheet again.  The girl [_What is her name?  I think it was something dumb like Cassiopeia._] mumbled in protest and held onto the cover.  How in the hell would he get her out of his bed?  Of all the mistakes he had made in his life, this was the biggest.  It was time to bid a fond _adieu_ to his redheaded neighbor and her sexy friends.  But damn it…_he didn't remember her name_.  

Frank gave up on his war over the cover.  He was accustomed to sleeping without attire unless Darien was home, and it didn't take him long to find his robe.  He remembered slinging it haphazardly over the back of a huge wingback chair that was used mostly as a place to hang clothing.  A meticulous man was Frank Donovan, but if he was depressed, forget it.  Last night was one of those times.  He had barely managed to belt his robe when he heard his guest for the night making small throaty noises he assumed were her way of rising.  It was the weirdest thing he had ever heard in his life, but damn if he wasn't watching as if she were some exotic lizard shedding her skin.  She was a gorgeous creature, but still didn't quite hold a candle to Aila.  _Stop this.  Stop it right now.  It's over.  Wake up and smell reality, Donovan.  _It seemed that every time he had a different woman in his bed, he missed Aila that much more.  He was a connected man, he knew people.  It wouldn't take much to find her if she wanted to be found.  Yet, that was the thing.  If she _wanted _to be found, she would have come out of the woodwork by now.  Frank sighed as he watched the woman coming to life and he realized that he honestly didn't know what to say to her.  _How about 'what's your name' for starters?  _She smiled at him and he returned it weakly.  _What the hell was I thinking?_

*  *  *

Frank had sent his third goofy dad text message of the day when his sister approached.  After he had finally gotten rid of his date from last evening [Her name _was _Cassiopeia.  "But you can call me Cassi," she had said while he shuddered with disgust.  _I doubt I'll ever call you again, _he thought.], he recalled that he made a breakfast date with Terra.  At first, he started to call and beg off, but he couldn't do it.  Terra was in law school now and he didn't see much of her as it was.  He stood and admired her as she drew closer.  She was tall like he, but since they had different mothers, her skin tone was different and her hair color much softer.  It glinted with dark auburn highlights as if she had been sun bathing.  Their only identical traits were their arrow straight noses and deep chocolate brown eyes.  He hugged her warmly before they broke apart.  As they took their seats, Frank heard a sharp beep emitting from his phone.

"Don't tell me," Terra began.  "My niece?"

He smiled.  "Yeah.  Logan is trying to get her to school, but she's been sending non stop text messages since she's been out of bed."

Terra watched as he zipped off a quick answer to Darien.  She was certain he had issued a stern command that she behave and go to school as Logan wanted.  She propped her chin on her hand.  He looked worn and beaten down.  "Des, you can't hide anything from your baby sister.  You look like shit.  What happened last night?"

Frank snapped his phone closed and looked up at Terra.  'Des' was short for 'Desmond.'  It was his mother's maiden name and she had pinned it onto him as a middle name.  He hated it, of course, and Terra often called him Des when she wanted to irritate him.  "Nothing out of the ordinary," he said, lying.  "I was at work, I picked up my daughter and took her back to her mother, I went out, and then I came home."

"Alone?"

There was another trait that Terra and Frank shared.  It was the same biting little smirk they were capable of when they wanted to tease the crap out of another person.  Right now, Terra was holding onto that trait and claiming it as her own.  She used it better and more effectively than any other member of the Donovan family.  Of course, Terra would ask.  She was well aware of his feelings for Aila.  She knew he still held onto Aila's engagement ring as if waiting for her to call him and accept a proposal never voiced.  He was readying for Terra's speech that shortly followed her smirk.  He was of the mindset to forget Aila and move on.  However, Terra was the exact opposite.  She felt he should use his influence and find her.  _If you still love her this much after three years, don't you think she might still have feelings for you_, she had asked a million times.  Damn it, _he _was the serious one in the relationship.  _He_ wanted the commitment.  _He _wanted to be married to her for the rest of his natural life.  It wasn't _him_ at all.  It was _Aila_.

Before Frank answered her question, a server interrupted them.  After she left, Frank grabbed his coffee cup and sipped at it tentatively.  "No, Terra.  I didn't go home alone.  I met a nice woman at the bar and we came back to my apartment."

Terra took a sip from her cup and smiled.  "Oh, Des, you're lying to me.  Don't you know better than that?  You can hide your emotions all you want, but you can't fake me out.  You had another one of those 'forget she existed' dates, didn't you?"  She sat back in her chair and waved her hands dramatically.  "Don't tell me.  Wait.  Let me guess.  She was a ditzy blonde knockout with D cup boobs and a butt you could bounce a quarter off of.  Am I right?  She was the exact opposite of the woman you should really try to pursue."

Frank shook his head and gave up on his coffee cup for a moment.  He sat back in his own chair, intentionally mocking his sister.  "Very astute of you, Terror."  If she wanted to whip out his old nickname, he supposed he could dig hers up as well.  However, calling her 'Terror' wasn't as irritating to her as 'Des' was to him.  It mostly only bothered her as a teenager when she was trying to impress a boy over the phone.  "Law school has taught you some excellent digging skills, but you're dead wrong."  'Terror' was nothing but right, but would he admit it?  No.  Not in a million years.

She shook her head and laughed.  "Des, come on.  I'm your sister.  If you can't confide in your sister, then who can you turn to?  Come on, Frank.  Fess up.  You go from one empty relationship to the next because you're still in love with Aila.  If you weren't still hung up on her, why would you keep the ring?  Come on, Des, you're a G-man and you have buddies at the CPD.  Someone there will know where she is.  I mean, even if she is married or whatever, just take the time to find her and call her or something.  For Pete's sake, Frank, do _something_.  Tell me about the chick.  Was I right?"

"Terror, sometimes, I wish I could hate you, but it would be too close to hating me," he said lightly.  "You were right about the girl and you're right about Aila.  Yet, regardless how right you are, that part of my life is over now.  Apparently, it wasn't meant to be or she would have stayed.  I can't keep pining forever.  As far as the ring goes, I gave it away last week.  It's nothing more now than a memory."  He picked up his coffee cup again to avoid the look in Terra's eyes.  It was too close to pity for his comfort level.  He loved his sister dearly, but there came a time when meddling had to stop.  "How's school," he asked suddenly.

"Nice subject change, Des."

*  *  *

After breakfast, Frank walked Terra back to her car.  When she left, he had intended to duck into the library for a while, but instead, he turned toward where he parked his car.  He drove back to his apartment building and took the stairs up to the twelfth floor.  He normally didn't take the stairs unless he wanted to work out a problem.  Today was problem day.  His conversation with Terra was upsetting, as it usually was when they discussed Aila Blane.  However, it seemed even more heart breaking.  He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was eating away at him.  Something he had never felt before.  When he heard the arguments about finding her, he'd always say it was time to move on.  However, today, he didn't know if that was such a good idea.  He definitely knew girlfriend swapping wasn't getting him anywhere.  But he couldn't keep up his obsession with her.  Perhaps he needed to find out where she was just to talk to her.  Perhaps he needed a more proper goodbye.  After all, he had been cheated in that category, hadn't he?  He walked into her hospital room to propose marriage and she had shrugged him off with a 'see ya.'  Damn it.  He _was _cheated.  

Frank reached his apartment door and he dug into his jeans pocket for his keys.  After letting himself inside, he locked the door behind him.  He stood in the middle of the living room for a very long moment, as if he were contemplating where to move his furniture.  Shaking his head, he moved forward and dumped his keys onto his coffee table.  He actually didn't know what his purpose was in coming home.  Sighing heavily, he moved into his bedroom.  When he left this morning, he hadn't wanted to linger any longer than necessary.  The blonde [_Cassi_, he thought with a shudder] had gone directly to her friend's apartment to dish about her night with him, and he had no desire to relive it.  Basically, he had taken his chicken shit ass and ran.  The bed was still messed up.  He couldn't stand to be in the same room with an unmade bed.  He had inherited his anal ways from his mother.  He stripped off the sheets and rolled them neatly into a tight ball before depositing them onto the wingback chair.  Frank went to his closet in hopes of finding fresh sheets, but of course, he had to dig around for some.  However, another piece of cloth caught his attention first.  It was a black wool trench coat.  Carefully, as if he were a surgeon performing delicate surgery, he plucked the coat off its hanger.  Thoughtfully, he gazed at it before slipping his hand into the right pocket.  Inside, he took hold of a small black velvet box.  He pulled it out slowly and gazed down at it as if he hadn't seen it in decades.  He wasn't an idiot.  He knew what was inside it, and of course, he had lied to his sister.  He also hadn't exactly forgotten where he put the ring, but he had put it out of his mind.  The moment he came home after she said she wanted to leave, he had taken off the coat and hadn't worn it since.  It felt tainted.  

For several minutes, he stared down at the velvet box, looking away only when his eyes began to sting.  Carefully, he opened the box and looked at the ring.  The stone was at least two carats, heart-shaped, and laid out on a thick gold band.  The inscription was still inside the band, of course:  _Forever, my love_.  He shook his head and laughed bitterly.  Forever indeed.  Was a year forever?  Shaking his head incredulously, he put the ring back inside the box and stuffed it into its hiding place.  He had told Terra he gave it away.  He supposed he still could.  But the moment he touched it, images of Aila's face came in so clearly that he could almost _feel _her presence.  Damn her for doing this to him.  Damn her for doing this to his heart.  He should take the ring and pawn it or give it to some bum on the street.  He didn't want it.  He didn't want to think about or look at it again.  He jammed his fist into the pocket again and took hold of the box.  He held it tightly and could feel the soft push of the velvet against his flesh.  He wanted to crush it.  Crush _her_.  In the end, he couldn't.  He put the ring back into the pocket and threw the coat across the back of his chair.  He would deal with it later.  Right now, he had to make his bed, to get the scent of the woman out of his room before he blacked out due to her cheap perfume.

When his task was accomplished, he found himself sitting on the side of his bed.  His eyes were focused on the window, but he wasn't looking at anything.  Every now and again, he would shift his gaze to the coat.  Had he truly forgotten where he put it?  He couldn't believe that for a second.  If Terra heard it, she would laugh herself insane.  God.  He hated it when Terra was right.  Of course, he wouldn't tell her and give her the satisfaction of knowing.  She would learn when he was ready to tell her.  He dug out his cell and began to scroll through his phone book.  He was relieved to note that the number was still there.  Kyle Lovett.  He was the Chief of Detectives at CPD and Aila's former superior.  After all this time, he had maintained this one contact.  Perhaps there was something to what Terra said.  Maybe he was simply waiting for the right time.  _Stop analyzing this to death and dial the damn phone._  He stabbed the 'send' key and waited patiently for his party to answer.

"Good morning, Chief Lovett.  It's Frank," he said when the other line was picked up after seven painful rings.  "Listen, I have a big favor to ask of you.  Where did Detective Blane transfer?"

**____________________**

**To be continued…**   


	4. City Funds

CITY FUNDS

It was past midnight, but Aila couldn't sleep.  She had tossed and turned approximately nine hundred billion times before finally giving up.  The house was quiet.  Tonight, her parents had taken Ethan home with them.  He loved his grandparents dearly and enjoyed spending time with them.  She always seemed to sleep poorly when Ethan was gone.  She came out of bed slowly and slipped her feet into her favorite fuzzy slippers.  She walked out of her room and moved down the hallway.  Unable to help herself, she stepped up to Ethan's room and slowly entered.  What did she think she would see?  Her little boy?  Gosh damn, she was attached to that kid.  What would she do when he started pre-school in the fall?  The picture caught her attention.  She had placed it atop Ethan's toy chest.  She picked up the frame and gazed down at the photo.  Sadly enough, she remembered the day that she took it.  It was morning and she was still lounging in bed.  He had already gotten up and had himself together for his day.  She snapped the picture when he least expected.  He actually looked pretty damn sexy.  She had completely forgotten taking the picture until she found the camera shortly after Ethan's birth.  It would have been easy to throw it away or burn it, but she didn't.  She couldn't cheat Ethan like that.  He deserved to know about his father.  _Doesn't his father deserve to know about him?  _

Sighing, Aila shoved the thoughts aside.  She placed the photo back where she found it.  It was time to get out of here before she lost her mind.  She shut the door behind her as she exited and made her way back to her bedroom.  _To my decidedly lonely bed.  _God.  Where had that come from?  _Why, don't you know?  It came from your decidedly stupid ass.  _Okay.  It was truly time for her to go bed.  She took to her bed, but didn't immediately try to sleep.  Instead, she grabbed a book that she had been making half-assed attempts at reading.  Lately, it was getting very difficult to concentrate.  Once again, she wondered if it wasn't her guilty conscience playing a role.  With each passing year of Ethan's life, he was getting smarter and smarter.  Very soon, he would figure everything out.  And when he did, God help her.  She could already detect little things here and there that made her certain her son would have the sharp mind she found so attractive in his father.  It wouldn't take much for him to do the math.  It would break her heart if her sweet little boy grew up to hate her, but then, she certainly deserved it.  She thanked God trillions of times for the simple fact that her mother never lectured her or told her what to do.  Of course, the old lady was thrilled to have her daughter back home, and was even more thrilled than that when she discovered Aila was pregnant.  It was time to speak up.  She had kept it inside too long now.  Knowing him the way she had, she wasn't afraid to bet that he'd take his fancy semi-auto handgun and blow her away.  Part of her hoped he would shrug it off and go on with his life, but she knew better than that.  It wasn't his way.  He was very serious when it came down to his child.  _Children, Aila.  Children.  _

_Fuck it.  _She gave up on trying to sleep for the third time tonight.  She left her bed once more and began pacing about the house.  Every now and then, she would allow her eyes to rest on Ethan's bedroom door.  _Goddamn that picture.  Why in the hell did I keep the fucking thing?  _Angry now, she pushed her body forward until she was inside her son's room.  She took hold of the picture, intent on smashing the frame and then burning it all in the fireplace.  However, she chickened out.  She stared down at the image for a while, and then stunned herself when she realized she was tracing the outline of his face with her index finger.  She groaned aloud and slammed the picture down.  She couldn't look at his face anymore.  However, she knew there would come a time when she would look at it plenty.  Aila turned and left Ethan's room for the last time tonight.  

She went into the living room and leaned her hot forehead against the cool glass of the large picture window that was the centerpiece of the room.  "God oh God," she moaned.  "I'm sorry," she whimpered.  "I'm so damn sorry I did this to you, Frank."

*  *  *

The next morning, Aila went to work several hours earlier than her scheduled time.  Beck wasn't even there yet.  As she went toward her office, she nodded at the dispatcher, who was staring at her curiously.  Mildeen was new and had no clue that Aila always came to work at the crack of dawn when her folks had Ethan.  She bypassed the nosy dispatcher and kept on trucking toward her office.  Once inside, she closed the door and went toward her filing cabinet.  Although a few days had passed, Aila's nose was still bent out of shape regarding her budget.  She hadn't lied to Sybil when she said she was no math whiz.  However, she wasn't an idiot.  She could balance books a little, and damn it, she _knew _there was enough money to get Beck's cruiser.  She simply couldn't understand where or how she had made an error.  

For an hour or more, Aila worked her expenditures.  Time after time, she came up with the same numbers.  Damn it.  What was she missing?  Every dime out had been accounted for.  Her list matched Sybil's item per item.  Typically, she would simply let it go, and then try to beg the mayor for enough funds.  How the hell did he expect them to do their jobs without a working cruiser?  Yet, today, Aila couldn't let anything go.  As soon as Mayor Allred showed his face at City Hall, she would ask to see the books.  It was the only way for her to reconcile the differences.  She had a key to the office and wondered if Allred would pitch a fit if she decided to visit it without his presence.  Until then, she was left stuck to brood about the errors and…other things.

*  *  *

Frank Donovan wasn't normally a careless man, but later, he would definitely make a careless mistake due to thoughts best left in the past.  Yet, he couldn't fight them away no matter how hard he tried.  He had gone to bed early one evening, the space beside him vacant.  The blonde had called him repeatedly, but he had no time to deal with her.  Thankfully for him, she had given up after four tries.  With thoughts of the blonde immediately came those of Aila.  Damn his sister for bringing her up again.  Damn him for finding the trench coat so well hidden in his closet.  After several hours, he finally gave up on sleep.  He glanced at his bedside clock.  It was after three in the morning and he normally awakened at five.  Taking on the credo that it was better to have no sleep at all than just a few hours, he dragged his weary body out of bed.  Not bothering to change out of his ratty pajama bottoms [when they were married, Logan constantly nagged him to buy a new pair…to hell with that…they were just 'broken in'], he grabbed his robe and shrugged into it.  The laundry room in his building stayed opened around the clock and he had enough dirty clothing for a load.  He went to the closet and dug out his laundry bag, ensuring that he didn't look for the damnable trench coat again.  He stuffed the clothes in the bag, and grabbed another smaller one that held detergent and softener.  On his way out, he grabbed his work cell and stuffed it into the pocket of his robe.  Looking like a decidedly haggard, but sexy Santa Claus, he threw the bag over his shoulder and disappeared down the side stairwell a few feet to the left of his apartment.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed that the laundry room was vacant.  God forbid if he ran into "Cassi" down here this morning.  During one of her chatty moments, she had told him that when she spent the night with the redhead, she often did her laundry in the wee hours of the morning.  _As if I care.  _Making a face, he drove thoughts of the blonde out of his mind and began unloading the contents of the bag into a machine.  His phone made a harsh chirping noise and he nearly jumped.  The chirp was overly loud in the peaceful stillness of the room.  Surely his daughter wasn't up at this hour sending text messages…  He dug the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.  The message was bizarre.  _Louie needs a new pair of socks_.  What the hell?  Wrong number.  He deleted the message and laid the phone atop a machine next to his.  As he waited for the washer to work through its cycle, he began pacing.  _Go away, Aila.  Go away.  I don't know why you're in my head right now, but I want you out.  _After his laundry was done [folded and stacked neatly within the laundry bag, of course], he left to prepare for his day, unknowingly leaving his cell phone behind for an unscrupulous character to find.

*  *  *

Although most people thought Cassiopeia a beautiful woman put together in all the right places, she was also idiotic, empty-headed, and downright mean.  She had also been described as a heartless lying bitch as well.  However, she didn't lie when she said she did her laundry in the wee hours of the morning.  Frank had been absent a total of thirty minutes when Cassi entered the laundry room.  As fate would have it, she chose the exact machine Frank had used earlier.  She saw the cell phone immediately.  Helplessly nosy and a hopeless thief, she grabbed the phone with every intention of selling it.  Her lifestyle demanded a lot from her and the phone would bring a pretty penny.  She just hoped that its owner wouldn't come looking for it until she was long gone.  Of course, the ditz didn't notice that there was a security camera in the laundry room.  She moved to slip the phone into her robe pocket, but it rang just before it touched the fabric.  Jumping about nine feet off the ground, she checked the caller ID screen.  Instead of allowing the phone to ring, she stupidly opened the phone and put it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

On the other end of the line, a very startled Aila Blane jerked the phone away from her ear the moment she heard a female's voice.  This phone, she knew, was Frank's work cell.  He protected that phone with his life and only trusted those very close to him access to it.  Her heart seemed to stop and her mouth grew very dry.  _He's not single, Aila.  Are you surprised?  Are you **really**?  _"Uh…hello," she uttered, hating the weak sound of her voice.  "I need to speak to Frank Donovan."

Cassi's eyes brightened and then a snotty little smile came to her lips.  This was Frank's phone and the woman on the other end of the line was very disappointed to hear her voice.  "Frank's not available right now," she said.  "May I ask who you are?"

Aila swallowed hard.  The other woman's voice was chirpy and irritating.  She was the kind of girl she thought Frank would go for.  In fact, she was the kind of girl her old boyfriend, Howie, had chosen over her.  What did she expect?  Their dicks ruled them.  Still, she had to tell him about Ethan.  It could wait no longer.  "I'm an old friend of Frank's, Aila Blane.  It's very important that I speak to him.  Could you please tell him I called and give him my number?"

Cassi carried the phone over to a vacant machine and leaned down on her elbows.  She would love this.  "Oh sure, honey.  I don't mind passing along a message.  As soon as he gets out of the shower, I'll tell him.  Your number is on the caller ID, so you won't have to repeat it.  Bye now."

Aila was about to protest when the other woman hung up on her.  Damn it.  She needed to speak to him in the privacy of her own home, not in the damn sheriff's office.  She sighed.  What did it matter?  Frank had another woman.  _Goddamn.  What am I doing?  _Her purpose in making contact was to tell him about their son, not to reconcile with him.  Yet, wasn't she hoping in the back of her mind that he _would _take her back?  _I'm such a fucking idiot_.  She placed the phone receiver back in its cradle and glanced at the clock.  She had a long time to wait for Mayor Allred.  She couldn't wait any longer.  

The moment Aila stepped outside, the tears came in a horrid downfall.  Why did it hurt so much?  She expected it, but she didn't expect it at the same time.  If she looked at it another way, what did she expect?  What if he _hadn't _had another woman?  Did she simply expect him to welcome her within his open arms?  Was that what she thought Frank would do?  Once he learned the truth about Ethan, he would hate her.  She learned quickly that Frank was a loving, devoted father.  In one of his rare moments, he shared his desire for more children.  When he was still married to Logan, he said he had approached her with this wish time and time again, but she didn't want to have another baby.  It was a point of contention in their marriage.  Darien had been a difficult birth for her and she didn't want to experience it again.  Frank spoke of having another child wistfully, as if he would never have that chance again.  Aila would laugh off his attempts at such serious conversation.  She was afraid.  She was afraid to love him so freely, afraid to admit that she would have fifty children with him if that was his desire, because it was _her _desire as well.  They both wanted the same things, but could never voice it to the other.  The day Frank came to her in the hospital, she had known of her pregnancy for approximately two hours.  Part of her wanted to tell Frank immediately, especially after he poured his heart out to her.  She would have his baby.  How could he be angry?  Another part also remembered the many, many times he told her he wasn't ready to marry again.  They were both so very careful and took every precaution necessary to prevent unexpected surprises.  But she was an idiot.  She was in the process of popping her pill one morning when she lost her grip on it.  It slipped down the drain and fell out of sight.  How was she to know that skipping one pill would change her life forever?  If she had told him about the baby right at that moment, what would have happened to them?  Of course, she didn't give Frank a chance to hear anything.  Instead, she made the decision for him, and ran home to her parents.  Now the 'baby' was a hearty three-year-old.  How many milestones had Frank missed?  He hadn't heard Ethan's first word, hadn't seen him taking his first step, and hadn't seen him run, jump, or play.  He would never recoup those.  With all that swirling in her mind, she knew that whatever love had was lost forever.

Aila quickly wiped the tears out of her eyes.  If she didn't, someone was sure to see her and start asking questions.  She turned to her right and made her way toward City Hall.  It was time to find her mistake in her figures.  Aila didn't know that her actions were being observed.

*  *  *

Frank had just returned from his morning workout and was looking forward to a long, hot shower when his doorbell rang.  Grumbling incoherently, he rubbed the back of his sweaty neck with a hand towel as he approached the door.  He groaned inwardly the moment he swung it open.  The blonde.  When the hell would she leave him alone?  He should have felt like shit treating her like he did, but he couldn't help it.  There was something about her that he didn't like, and it wasn't just her stinky perfume.  

"I found this in the laundry room," she said with a smile.  "I think it's yours."

His work cell was dangling precariously between her thumb and index finger.  He grew even more irritated.  How in the hell had he been careless enough to leave his phone in the laundry room?  "Yes," he said.  "It is."  He took the phone from her before it could drop onto the floor and shatter into a billion pieces.  "Thank you."

"My pleasure," she purred.  "Listen, if you're interested, my friend is loaning me her apartment overnight, and I can cook dinner for you."

He shook his head.  "Sorry.  I'll be out of town.  If you'll excuse me?"

"Oh, of course," she said.  "I'll call you."

"That won't be necessary," he told her.  

Without waiting for her response, he closed his door and locked it behind him.  He cursed himself for being so damn stupid to take her home with him that night.  He carried the phone into his bedroom and laid it on his nightstand.  After a shower, he would feel all right.  _Or at least I hope I will_.  When he came out of the bathroom, Frank put himself together for the day, and then reached down for the phone.  He checked it and noticed that he had received one call.  He didn't recognize the number:  _1-316-555-5510_.  He did, however, recognize the area code.  Kansas.  Frank scrolled down to dialand hit the select button.  He waited as the phone on the other end began to ring.  A decidedly nasal male voice answered with a brusque:  "Sheriff's Office."

"Sheriff's Office," he repeated stupidly.  "Sheriff's Office where?"

"Linker County, Kansas, buddy," the man answered indignantly.  "This is Deputy Beck speaking.  Can I help you?"

Kansas.  Aila was from Kansas.  His heart began beating hard in his chest.  "I'm Frank Donovan and your number was on my phone.  The question is how can _I _help _you_?"     

"Not sure 'bout that, buddy," Beck said.  "I didn't call you."

Frank licked his lips and swallowed hard.  His heart was beating double time.  "Do you know a woman named Aila Blane?"

"I ought to, buddy.  She's my boss.  Does she know you?"

_Aila.  Aila called me.  But why?  _"Yes, she does."  _She used to.  _"May I speak to her?"

"Nope, you can't.  The sheriff is not here right now, but I can tell her you called.  Would you like that?"

Frank didn't like this man.  He could almost see him sitting back with his feet propped up on his desk.  "Of course I would," he snapped.  "She has my number."  Without waiting for the man to answer, he snapped his phone shut and clipped it onto his belt.

*  *  *

Aila came back to the office around seven in the morning.  She had spent a good two hours with Sybil's books.  The figures she had made less sense than her own.  Sybil was like a sister to her, but Aila was close to approaching the other woman.  What the hell had happened to the money?  Had Sybil done something to it?  She passed by Beck's office and he shouted at her.

"You bellowed, Beck," she said.

"Yeah.  I got some call for you real early this morning.  Said his name was Frank something or other," he told her.

_He called.  Oh my dear God, he called._  What would she do?  "What did he say?"

"Nothin' much.  Man's a real smart ass, though," he said.  "He wants you to call him back.  Said you had his number."

"Thanks, Beck."

Aila slipped into her office and shut the door behind her.  She went to her desk and sat down.  Burying her face into her hands, she began to cry again.  _It's got to be PMS.  Yep.  That's it.  _What the hell would she say?  She didn't know it yet, but she wouldn't get the chance to call back.

*  *  *

Cassi opened the door and smiled.  It was Frank.  "Changed your mind?"

She stepped back and turned around, allowing him entrance to the room.  He approached her slowly from behind.  She could sense his presence and feel his body heat radiating toward her.  Her nipples had begun to harden already and she felt shaky all over.  His hand came up to her shoulder and he squeezed it gently.  He brought his lips down to her ear and she shivered when she felt his breath blowing into it.  She brought her hand to her throat and closed her eyes tightly.  She couldn't wait for him to strip her naked.

"I do not make idle threats.  If you ever touch my phone again," he began softly, his teeth clenched, "I'll personally see to it that you spend twenty years in federal prison."

He turned and left her standing stunned and speechless.

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**  


	5. Guilty Until Proven Innocent

GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT

Frank went to the nest on time.  He was tempted to call in sick and stay home all day trying to reach Aila.  Her calling his work cell bothered him.  Something felt horridly out of kilter.  Would she call him back?  He decided that if she didn't call him, he would call _her.  _Always first at work, he found the nest vacant as he hoped.  He took the short flight of stairs two at a time until he was inside his office.  There was no door to speak of, so he would have to use what privacy he had before the others arrived.  The moment he started up his computer, he noticed he had several encrypted emails awaiting him.  All were from his immediate supervisor.  He also noticed that he had a fax awaiting him as well.  Ignoring the emails, Frank reached for the fax.  It was wrong, but right now, he couldn't concentrate on anything that didn't have to do with Aila.  He was in no mood for work today.  Perhaps he could skip out before the team arrived.  What stopped him cold was a name that seemed to blare at him like an indignant driver's car horn.  _Sheriff Aila Blane_.  He read the fax thoroughly and then read it again for good measure.  An anonymous tip had come in regarding a particularly evasive drug kingpin.  He had been supplying the Midwest with enough methamphetamine to disable five countries.  According to the specs he was perusing, the tipster had fingered Aila Blane as one of the kingpin's partners in crime.  _The tipster claims that Sheriff Blane has been piping funds out of her department's budget and funneling it to Thurman Herren.  Blane has not been confronted with the information yet and won't be.  She is a small player.  We want Herren.  The team will be needed to infiltrate._  Frank set the fax aside.  Aila?  Embezzling money?  She was a cop for God's sake.  What the hell did all this mean?  Perhaps she had called him to ask for his help.  Nothing made sense.

Frank was very familiar with Thurman Herren.  He was a big name in the drug underworld who dabbled in everything from heroin down to the lowest common denominator, meth.  There were hundreds of people willing to steal to fund his deadly games.  Two years ago, the team had all but caught Herren, but he somehow skipped out of town and hadn't been heard from since.  Apparently, he had moved on to Kansas and thought he could be safe amongst small town folk.  It was obvious that someone suspected Aila of being a cohort of his.  It was hard for Frank to reconcile, especially knowing her as he did.  However, he was neither pointing the finger nor dismissing the accusation.  He would know more after talking to her.  The team would infiltrate, but he would face Aila straight on.  It was one assignment he should turn down due to personal conflict, but he couldn't.  He had to know.  He grabbed his phone and dialed the sheriff's department again.

Aila jumped straight out of her chair when the phone rang beside her.  She was on the verge of calling Sybil for a meeting.  Normally, she would let Mildeen or Beck answer it, but they were doing their Barney/Juanita thing.  She grabbed the phone after three rings.  "Sheriff's office."

Frank recognized her voice immediately.  In three years, all her tones and inflections were still there.  _Should I call her Sheriff Blane?  Aila?  Ms. Blane?  What?  _He cleared his throat before speaking.  "Aila, it's Frank."

_Beat, beat, beat…BANG BANG_.  It was her heart.  _Hi darling.  Come to Kansas, meet your three-year-old son.  _Dear Jesus.  What was she doing?  Swallowing hard, she decided to play it cool.  "Good morning, Agent Donovan.  How are you?"

_Agent Donovan?_  Her voice was smooth and calm, teasing almost.  Three years hadn't changed that, either.  "Agent Donovan?  It's only been three years, Aila.  I would think you could still call me Frank.  I received your message early this morning and the curiosity is killing me.  May I ask about the nature of your call?"

_All business.  I can almost see the lift of your eyebrow.  Nothing ever changes, does it, Frank?  _"I think you just did, Frank," she answered smartly.  "We must talk face to face, but I cannot come to you.  I'm a little…occupied.  Can you tear yourself away from your duties and your girl long enough to come to Kansas?"

_My girl?  Goddamn that blonde.  _"The only girl I see regularly is my daughter," he said.  _Oh, great.  Mr. Obvious, here.  Why not just ask her if she's available.  How in the hell can I do my job around her?  _"As it turns out, I can swing a small side trip, but it might be a few days before I'm ready to go.  And this is something you cannot discuss on the phone?"

_No girl?  Oh, you lying bastard.  _"I suppose I could if I wasn't surrounded by nosy deputies and other employees, Frank.  Seriously, this is something that should only be shared between the two of us.  I wouldn't impose like this if I didn't think it was necessary."

"Good.  I wanted to see you again, especially when I discovered that you're a sheriff," he said lightly.

Although her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest, she found it in her to laugh.  "You perv.  You just have a thing for females in uniform."

"That I do," he admitted.  _Oh God, this so hard.  Why are we both trying to be so brash and brave?  I could cut the bullshit and tell her how I feel right now and get it over with.  _But then, he remembered the case.  He had to maintain an even keel.  "I'm glad you called."

"Yeah, me too."  Aila was holding the receiver so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.  _We have a son, Frank.  His name is Ethan.  He looks just like me, except for his coloring, nose, and eyes.  He acts just like you.  The apple does not fall far from the tree.  _"There's someone here who is waiting to meet you."

_A husband?  A boyfriend?  _"Great," he said, disheartened.  "I must go, Aila.  My team will be here soon.  I'll find you."  

Without waiting for her to answer, he hung up.  He couldn't take it anymore.  Images of them being on different sides of the fence came vividly to his mind.  He couldn't stand the thought of being her enemy.  In a way, he was.  But he refused to convict her before he knew the whole story.  How much could he tell the team?  No one knew much about his home life.  They hadn't seen his daughter, his ex, or Aila.  They came after Aila.  He never spoke about her to anyone outside his sister.  Logan prodded him a lot, but she was easier to ignore.  Shrugging the case away for the time being, he grabbed the phone to call his daughter.

The moment Aila heard the distinct _click _of Frank's phone hundreds of miles away in Chicago, she dropped her own and then promptly buried her face in her hands.  She had been so close to blurting out everything that she had held back three years ago.  For a moment, she almost hated him.  He wasn't stupid.  He knew what made children and he knew how much they made it.  He should _know_.  She shouldn't have to tell him anything.  Yet, it was stupid of her to think like this.  Frank was intelligent, but he was no mind reader.  She had never given him reason to believe she was pregnant.   She couldn't put any of the blame on him.  She shoved thoughts of him aside for a moment.  She had to think of her job and believed a visit to Sybil at her shop would answer some questions.  She had no idea that her ex-lover doubted her at this very moment.

*  *  *

Frank stood and barely listened as Monica went over the information she had managed to dig up regarding one Aila Blane.  Her voice droned on and on:  "One-time decorated beat officer, she made her way up the ranks of the CPD and eventually made detective.  She worked closely with several federal agencies, including our own."  Frank's hearing went in and out as she continued while Cody made one smart-ass comment after another.  He had admitted to his boss that he had personal ties with their subject of scrutiny.  Time and time again, he declared he could do it.  However, would that include telling the team about his past with her?  He wasn't ready to go into it.  But once Aila grew wise [and she surely would], they would hear it from the source herself.  He felt horribly caught between his loyalty to the job and his sacred privacy.  _Face it.  You're biased.  You **are not**…**cannot **be objective with this case.  Back out while you still can.  _Back out?  Had he _ever _backed out?  Hell no.  And now wasn't the time to do so.

"Boss?"

Frank's head whipped up at attention within nanoseconds.  If the look on his face hadn't been so serious, they would have laughed.  "Yes," he said shortly, acknowledging Alex.  Ice blue eyes.  Jesus.  

No one said anything immediately.  There was a look about him that had never been there before.  It was one almost completely indescribable.  Their boss seemed to be a billion light years away with no hope of returning.  They hadn't seen him like this before.  

"Boss, are we losing you," Cody said, wise-cracking for all he was worth.  

"Excuse me," Frank said blankly.  "I drifted," he admitted.  He ran his hand over his mouth absently.  How in the hell could he approach this?  Did he _need _to approach it?  It wasn't too late to back out of the assignment, but he didn't want to do that, either.  He approached a nearby chair and seated himself tiredly.  Even speaking about Aila innocently didn't sit well with him.  Choosing his words carefully, he opened his mouth to speak.  "I've worked closely with Ms. Blane before," he began, "while I was still with K & R.  She is very good at what she does, both in and out of the field."  He noticed that Cody wanted to say something, but Frank held up his hand, as if anticipating the young man's question.  "I've not decided one way or another if these accusations are true.  Knowing her as I did, it's difficult to believe she is anything but innocent, but right now, I'm making no judgments.  I suggest you say goodbye to your families.  We leave tomorrow."

Much later, Frank had just put his daughter to bed.  Since he was leaving town for an undetermined amount of time, Logan relented readily when he asked to have Darien overnight.  He lingered with her only a moment, placing one final kiss to her cool forehead before leaving the room.  Any more than that, and she would spend a good portion of the night driving him up the wall.  He loved his daughter dearly, but she had ways of wearing a man down.  After leaving her bedroom and shutting the door behind him, the doorbell rang.  He went to the door, his face slightly puckered with confusion.  Who the hell would be bothering him this time of night?  _Dear God.  I hope it isn't the blonde.  _It wasn't.

"Terra," Frank said.  "What the hell are you doing here?"

She shoved her way past his body.  "Nice to see you, too, big brother."  She moved toward the couch and made herself at home.  "I know it's close to bedtime.  I promise not to stay long."

Frank shut the door, but stood close by with his hands on his hips.  What sort of scheme did she have in mind this time?  "Terra, shouldn't you be studying or causing terror in the hearts of small children?"

"You're so funny, Frank.  Sit down.  I want to talk to you for a while."  She waited and watched patiently as Frank moved away from the door.  He sat on the arm of a chair near the couch.  "Good.  Glad you listened for once in your old ass life.  Did you call her?"

"When are you going to butt out of my love life and get one of your own," he asked a bit harsher than intended.

However, his words didn't make Terra blink twice.  She was used to this.  Frank was Frank.  "You did!  I knew you would.  Logan called me a few hours ago and said that you wanted to keep Darien overnight because you were leaving town.  Are you going after your lady love?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her.  Frank could understand his sister playing matchmaker, but his _ex-wife_?  During their marriage, she had been quite jealous.  What the hell was wrong with this picture? He didn't know why he was directing his anger toward Terra.  She had done nothing more than voice a simple question.  She was his sister and she loved him.  She knew how he had felt about Aila.  _How you **felt**?  Don't you mean how you still feel?_He chewed on his lip for a few moments.  He could tell her nothing about the case, couldn't even _hint_ at it.  However, there were a few things he _could_ say.  "I called, but didn't speak to her directly and I probably won't.  I'm going out of town because my team and I were assigned a new case.  It's over, Terra.  I realized that three years ago and I think it's time for you to realize it as well.  If you don't mind, I'd like to go to bed.  Darien and I have to be up by six."

"I mind, Des," she said with a smile.  "Whatever you're going to do is your business.  I hope you find each other again.  I don't think you'll ever be truly happy again until you find each other."  She stood and approached him.  She gave him a noisy kiss on the cheek, the kind she gave him when they were children.  "Have a safe trip, Des.  And I hope you find her."

He sighed deeply as he watched her leave.  Damn it.  He hated having a sibling who read his mind so thoroughly.  He closed the door behind her and turned toward his room.  He had a lot of packing to do.  

*  *  *

While it was still daylight, Aila had tried visiting Sybil.  Her shop was usually open seven days a week, until at least nine or ten at night.  However, it was closed.  Bizarre.  Sybil _never _closed her shop unless something dire happened.  She was worried about her friend in more ways than one.  Sybil was nearly like a sister to her.  She was one of the few people who accepted her back with open arms when she came home.  Although being unmarried and pregnant wasn't an unusual thing in this day and age, lots of folks talked about Aila behind her back.  Sybil was one of a few who didn't.  Aila was fairly tight-lipped when it came to giving out information about the baby's father.  Sybil was one of the first people whom she told.  And when she went into labor, it was Sybil who took her to the hospital.  It was also Sybil who gave unending advice when Aila didn't know what to do.  She had had a few children and knew her way around babies.  Aila knew little.  Hell, if it hadn't been for her friend, she might have fed Ethan's butt and diapered his head.  She owed a lot to her friend.  So now as she walked up to the shop and noticed it locked up tight, her worry grew.  What if Sybil had some serious money troubles and thought that her only way out was to take money from the town?  Surely she would know whom to turn to at such a time?  Aila would give her the shirt off her back.  She gave up after knocking several times and went back toward the office.  Perhaps later, she would call and see if Sybil had gone home early.

Aila made her way home earlier than usual herself.  There was a weird silence around the sheriff's office and city hall that was highly unsettling.  It appeared that they were having a secret meeting of some sort.  Sybil might be there.  But why would the council have a meeting without her?  She was part of the damn circus.  For Pete's sake, they had just had a meeting.  Shrugging it off, she went inside, grabbed her keys, and walked out to the Bronco.  It was then that she noticed several council members in the back of the building with their heads together.  It struck her even weirder than Sybil's shop being closed.  She ignored it for the time being.  It was time to go home to her empty house.  She was tempted to pick up her son and take him home.  

Of course, the moment she thought of her son, Frank invaded her mind as well.  Hearing his voice for the first time in three years did something to her.  It brought back everything, every little memory she had of him.  She missed him, missed him more than she ever had before.  What in the hell was she thinking?  What would she tell him?  _How _could she tell him?  She certainly couldn't blurt it, could she?  _Go to bed, Frank.  Get out of my head.  Whenever you 'find me,' we have a lot of shit to work out.  I only hope you don't wind up hating me_.  

*  *  *

Thurman Herren sat in the comfy living room of his current girlfriend.  She was down on her hands and knees massaging his feet.  The feet were highly erogenous zones and a lot of people simply overlooked them.  He gazed down at the woman and noticed how seriously she took to the task.  Perhaps when she finished, he would pay her back with a shot or two of his best stuff.  Maybe if she were _real _good, he'd give her a month's supply.  He put his hand onto the back of her head and grimaced at the stiff hairspray holding her style together.  He didn't understand why she insisted on using that shit.  

"So, honey," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness.  "Do you think we're in the clear?"

"Hmm," she sighed.  "I think we are.  No one is suspicious of anything where we're concerned.  But the sheriff is about to be unemployed for a while.  Maybe if we're lucky, she'll get the full brunt of this."

"Sweetie, she'd better.  If not, I know a nice foot lady who's gonna get a boot up her ass," he said.   

She looked up at him for a moment.  "Oh no, Thurman.  I promise you.  No one will ever know that you had anything to do with it.  I'll turn myself in before I'll let anything happen to you," she said, smiling brightly.  "Don't worry yourself.  The sheriff is in the hot seat and in the hot seat she'll stay.  I won't be surprised when they put her in cuffs and throw her in her own jail."

"They should, Sugar Buns.  I've been in prison before and I don't like it.  I'm running out of places to hide.  Chicago sure as shit didn't cover me well.  This hokey town has its purposes.  Why don't you stop caressing my feet and focus your attention on something else?"

"You betcha, baby."

*  *  *

"How could you do this to me," Frank roared.  "How could you hide something like this from me?  You were carrying my son and you said nothing.  ANSWER ME."

_The last two words out of his mouth were roared at her.  He was a wild animal set to murder her.  "Please, let me explain…"_

_"Explain WHAT?  Explain the fact that you were pregnant with my child and failed to tell me?  What do you expect me to do?  Forgive you?"_

_"Frank, please," she begged meekly._

_"Please?  Take your please and your bastard son away from my sight.  I can stand to look at you no longer."_

_"But he's your son," she whispered._

_"I have no son," he said coldly._

_"You do…and he's beautiful."_

_"FUCK OFF!"_

The roar awakened Aila out of a deep sleep.  Her heart was pounding hard in her chest.  She sat up and blinked owlishly about the room.  It was almost as if she expected Frank to be in the room with her, breathing down her neck.  There was nothing but air surrounding her.  Air and the sound of her harsh sobs.  Dear God.  What the hell was she going to do?

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**


	6. Welcome To Kansas

**WELCOME TO KANSAS**

The first thing Frank noticed when they drove into Pineville was its size.  It was completely tiny in every true sense of the word.  If there were 700 people here, he would be surprised.  He recalled how vehemently Aila claimed she would never live in a small town.  He had never known what the aversion was.  He still didn't.  It was more than confusing.  Although he had taken a middle of the road position, Frank wouldn't dare admit that he desperately wanted to see Aila again.  Had she changed?  Was her hair still black as coal?  Were her eyes the same shimmering ice blue or had they dulled?  Was there a boyfriend?  Lover?  Husband?  Who was this 'someone' that he would meet?  It was messing him up inside and he thought he might go insane if this person was a significant other.  _Let it go.  You're here to investigate, to solve a mystery, and to take down yet another bad guy.  There's nothing complicated about it.  _However, there was _plenty _about it that was complicated.  Grumbling incoherently, he shook it off and slung his garment bag over his shoulder.

For now, he didn't want Aila to see him with the team.  He wasn't sure who would do what just yet.  However, Alex and Jake were posing as the mayor's niece and nephew in-law.  Frank was on his way to meet them at the mayor's office.  Before they landed in Kansas City, Allred had phoned and told him that they wouldn't have to worry about the sheriff.  She was supervising county inmates on work detail.  Aila wouldn't see any of them arriving or exiting the City Hall, not unless she came back early.  Frank dreaded this meeting.  Dreaded it even more as he, Cody, and Monica stowed their gear in their sparse hotel rooms.  He wanted to interrogate the hell out of Aila and then kiss her silly.  He was already jumpy and hadn't laid one eye on her.  What would happen when he _did_?  Mumbling unintelligible commands to Monica and Cody, he closed his room door behind him.  He didn't have time to shower and that fact alone put him in an even fouler mood.  He went into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water.  He rose up and gazed at his reflection.  All in all, he looked like shit and felt ten times worse.  _You're losing it, Donovan_.  After several mind numbing moments, he grabbed a hand towel and blotted his face dry.  Sooner or later, he would have to face Aila Blane and then go about business as usual.  Could he do it?  The answer was simple enough.  Yes he could.  He had no choice.  It was time to get moving.  Allred was expecting them all.

Kendon Allred was the stereotypical small-town mayor.  He was short in stature, had a paunchy stomach, and absolutely no hair on his head.  The baldness wasn't something he was ashamed of, but the locals often saw Mayor Allred wearing a funky fedora hat that he had had since he was a small boy.  His grandfather had given it to him and he was hard pressed to let it go.  Today, he sat behind his expansive mahogany desk chitchatting with two federal agents.  He wasn't guilty of anything, but they made him nervous.  He was irritated because their immediate supervisor was running late for their meeting.  There was no way in hell he wanted Aila to see the team right away.  They had to make plans and prepare for whatever hell faced them.  Part of him hated Aila Blane with a passion.  Why in the hell hadn't she taken her bastard son and lived some place else?  But no…not her.  She simply _had _to come home and run for office.  It served them all right for trusting her.  For trusting an _outsider_.  An outsider was exactly what she was now.  She didn't even speak the same way anymore.  She actually sounded like she had been born and bred in Chicago.  Part of him also sympathized with her.  She actually hadn't been a half bad sheriff.  She kept most of her campaign promises despite horrid setbacks in her personal life.  And if he had been in her shoes, he might have been tempted to dive into the city funds.  Beck's cruiser _was _shot to shit.  But what the hell happened to the rest of the money?  Doctor's bills?  Pineville was a small town.  They had all heard about Ethan Blane's difficult birth.  Both the girl and her boy nearly died.  Allred looked up when his secretary, Mona, opened his office door.  It was time to get the show on the road.  Hallelujah.  The sooner the better.  The only thing he dreaded more than this meeting was replacing the sheriff.  Beck didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.  All he cared about was bowing up with the pretty young dispatcher.  He stood and felt an overwhelming urge to rub the top of his head.  He was sweating like a whore in church.  What was it about the initials F, B, & I that set a man's heart to beating the band?

"Mr. Donovan," Allred said as he stood, offering his hand to the stony-faced agent.

Frank nodded politely and then returned the gesture.  Allred was a true politician.  He gave Frank's hand a couple firm squeezes and then stepped back.  He didn't want to get too close to many people.  Frank took an instant dislike to this man.  From the periphery of his vision, he noticed that the elderly secretary hadn't moved an inch.  He focused his eyes on her very briefly and he noticed [with dark satisfaction] that she shrank away from his steady gaze.  "Please excuse us," he said.

After the door was closed securely behind them, Frank, Cody, and Monica took the vacant seats.  Jake and Alex had chosen to sit near the mayor in the plush chairs reserved for visiting dignitaries.  The thought struck Frank so very darkly delicious that he nearly laughed.  He had pigeon holed this man and his town without giving either a shot to prove him wrong.  What was truly bothering him?  Was it Aila?  The case?  The fact that he would rather have his toes sawed off than sit here?  It was nothing like that.  He was bitter and he came to square away some personal business while working a case.  It was a bad and forbidden mix, but goddamn it, if he were stuck here, he would jolly well have his say.  He would do so even if he had to wait until he dragged Aila away in cuffs.  He deserved it.  He deserved more than a lame 'it was fun, but I must go now' excuse, and she would know it.

Clearing his head for the billionth time, Frank said, "Tell us what you know."

Allred jumped back a bit.  His request was more like a demand.  He didn't like this character and definitely didn't like how he was sizing him up.  Big city men like him tried to eat small towns for breakfast.  Allred reasoned he was probably already wondering how many couples had practiced inbreeding.  "Our Treasurer, Sybil Hartley, noticed a few inequities in her set of books.  She came to me and said that she caught the sheriff going through them one morning before dawn.  The sheriff has been complaining about her budget since she was elected and has especially done so now.  Her senior deputy needs a new cruiser."

Frank shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek hard.  He was again tempted to laugh his ass off.  Did the mayor think they had come all this way because of a budget dispute?  "Mayor, if I may," he began.  "Our being here has little, if nothing, to do with your books.  If your sheriff is misappropriating your town's funds, we want to know why, and not because she lacks a cruiser for her deputy.  We want to know the link between her and Thurman Herren.  She's only a minor player as far as we're concerned."

_Oh sure.  Piss on you.  _He didn't like this man.  Nope, nope, nope.  He knew about Thurman Herren.  Everyone in town did, especially the meth heads.  If anyone did drugs in Pineville, likely as not, they came from Herren or his henchmen.  "Of course," Allred said, nearly stumbling on his words.  "Honestly, I don't know the sheriff's tie to Herren, unless they're… well…um…involved."

_Unless they're…well…um…involved.  _The words cut Frank like a knife.  Would she become involved with a drug kingpin?  _Would she?  _Aila was anti-drug all the way.  In fact, her ambitions began leading her toward the DEA, but her injury put a stop to that.  Herren was older than Aila and built like a brick wall.  She wasn't usually attracted to men like that.  _And what do you know about her?  Remember asshole, it's been three years.  You have no idea what she's like now.  _"I see," he finally managed.  "I suggest that you not move on the sheriff for a few days.  Let us watch her and learn her patterns.  I'll also want to speak to your treasurer as well.  Jake and Alex will be around you the most.  I think you should suggest that the sheriff hire another dispatcher.  Monica perhaps?"  Without ceremony, Frank stood, but did not offer the other man his hand.  "Thank you for your time.  We'll be in touch."  Cody and Monica fell in beside him.  They stopped when Frank asked a question, "What do you think?"

"He's nervous and rightfully so," Monica commented.  "I'm not sure I believe that the sheriff is romantically linked to Herren.  From what Cody and I have dug up, she seems stronger and more controlled than that."

He nodded, satisfied.  "Good."

They began to walk off again, but Monica drew ahead.  She and Cody had literally tossed heads or tails for this privilege, with Cody being the loser.  "Boss, you might cause me bodily harm when I say this, but Monica and I found some…"

Frank stopped walking abruptly, as did Cody.  Monica was already at the rented SUV.  He fixed his steely gaze on the younger man.  He could see that the two had finally dug up information best left buried.  "Found some background information regarding Aila Blane's love life?  Is that it?"

_Goddamn mind reader.  _"Well, uh, yeah.  That exactly.  I'm sure you realize this complicates the case?"

_You will hear no gossip from me.  I will **not **talk about my affair with Aila.  _"Of course it complicates it, but doesn't make it impossible to follow through.  I can use this past to divert her attention while the rest of you find what we need.  I trust that neither of you will mention this to Jake or Alex?"

_Sure I will, if I wanted a big ass foot down my throat.  _"Oh no.  We're good."

"Thank you," he said brusquely before picking up his stride toward the SUV.          

Aila saw Frank long before he saw her.  She watched as he emerged from City Hall with two other people.  He did this quietly and with dignity, as if he were an emperor approaching his loving people.  It was incredible watching him move.  Only three years had passed, but it seemed as if it was no time at all.  Aila was drawn back to the first night she laid eyes on him.  Howie was still her steady boyfriend.  She had been shocked by Frank's attention.  She was no dog, but what the hell did a man like he see in _her_?  She had never understood his fascination.  It wasn't hard, however, to see how and why he was attractive to her.  He was still so very sexy, but also managed to act distinguished no matter how high the pressure.  Three years had made him appear even hotter than ever before.  And despite what he believed, she was just as hot for him as he was her.  She hadn't expected him to bring along two other people, one of whom was a woman.  Was she his wife?  Was she the chirping girl on the cell phone?  Whoever she was, Aila literally hated her.  Goddamn.  What the hell was she doing?  She turned away and headed toward the jail.  Perhaps Frank wouldn't see her.  However, she was wrong.

As soon as Monica and Cody disappeared into the SUV, movement to his left caught him off guard.  He stopped and realized immediately that he was looking at Aila.  He barked a command to his two team members, asking that they get back to the hotel.  It was time to make contact with Aila.  From his distant vantage point, he couldn't see much, but what he saw stuck with him and would do so for the rest of his life.  She wore a hideous dark blue uniform that would look terrible on any other woman.  However, it looked absolutely fabulous on her.  It fit her body neatly, hugging every curve.  Her coal black hair was braided and pinned up.  His brain was telling him to move forward, but his body couldn't listen to it.  Apparently, Aila had noticed him as well.  If he could have been outside his body for a few moments, he would have realized that they looked fairly stupid.  Each of them was staring at the other, but not moving an inch.  Had they forgotten how to move, walk, or talk?  Both of them were adults, he well within his 30s, and her well on her way there.  Yet, they were acting like children.  His conversation earlier with the mayor had fucked up his head.  He felt like laughing and crying at the same time.  Perhaps Aila would love that.

Aila stood stock still when she realized that Frank had indeed seen her, and he was pushing his lanky body toward hers.  Jesus.  She had to get the hell out of here.  She was supposed to finish up at work and then pick up her son.  She wasn't ready to introduce Frank to Ethan yet.  She had to have time to prepare.  _Time.  No time.  No time for zip.  _Her instinct was to flee, but there was nowhere for her to go.  Instead of listening to her heart, she allowed her head to win out.  The closer he drew, the clearer his features became.  Everything was still the same.  His jaw line was still strong, his nose arrow straight, his kissable lips just as full, and his brown eyes just as piercing.  The only difference was that his black hair was dusted with a bit of gray at the temples.

Frank did his own once over.  Her petite body had changed very little, but if he had the chance to view it in its nude form, he was almost certain that it was even lusher than he remembered.  Her ice blue eyes were as stunning as ever and they cut into him like jagged pieces of ice.  Her oval face was tilted upward toward him, accentuating her sharp chin and high cheekbones.  When she was in such a stance, it normally meant she was challenging him.  He had seen it enough when they were together.  However, today, it was most heartbreaking.  He was tempted to take her by her shoulders and shake her until she confessed to whatever secrets she held.

"When you said you'd find me, you truly meant it," Aila said when Frank was within hearing distance.  Inside, she was shaking.

"That I did," he began lightly.  Inside, his heart was breaking.  "And you do look hot in that uniform."

"See…you _are _a pervert," she said.

"Can we go inside and talk," he asked, putting on his serious face.

She nodded.  "Sure."

Without a word between them, they walked around together to the front of the building.  Mildeen and Beck watched, fascinated, as the sheriff led the tall stranger into the building.  They said nothing as Aila took the man into her office and closed the door behind them.  She watched as Frank took a seat across from her desk.  Almost immediately, he propped his chin on his clasped hands.  Aila nervously puttered about her office, nearly knocking everything off her desk.  Fiddling with a paperweight, she slid into her chair, listening to the creaks and squeals it made as it adjusted to her weight.  

"You were definitely trying to find me," Frank began.  "Any particular reason?"  He was trying his damn best to keep the conversation light and teasing.  If he didn't, he would lose total control over the situation.  One thing that Frank Donovan didn't like losing was control.

"You surely don't hesitate to cut to the chase, do you," she said with a smile.  _Yes there's a reason, Frank.  A good one.  I wanted you to come here so you could meet your son.  It's time for Ethan to have his father.  _Images of her nightmare began playing in her mind.  Would Frank deny his son?  Most men would.

He shook his head.  "Have I ever?"  Shifting gears ever so slightly [_I must not allow her to see any sign of weakness.  If I do, it's her game_], he said, "You look good.  You seem settled and happy.  I'm glad I see that in you."

_Are you, Frank?  Are you **really**?  _She didn't exactly see those words in his eyes.  There was something else going on, something that he wasn't ready to share with her.  Would he allow her to dig it out?  Did he have another reason for coming here?  Was it one that _would _make her happy?  "Thanks, Frank.  I see the same things in you.  Whatever you're doing now agrees with you."

It was time to cut off the niceties.  He was getting sick of it, but was there any other way out?  "I'll be here for a few days.  Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

_Damn.  Wham bam, thank you ma'am.  _She wanted to jump him and scream yes a million times, but she had to first think of her son.  "I'd love to, but I have a prior engagement that I cannot ignore.  I do want to get together with you so we can talk, but tonight's just not the night."

Frank nodded.  "Feels like the first time you turned me down," he said lightly.  "I suppose I can wait while some other lucky guy sweeps you away."

"Oh you," she said.  "You don't know a good thing when you see it."

_No.  I definitely don't.  I should have plunged ahead and asked you to marry me.  I shouldn't have held back or stalled.  You wanted to be my wife as much as I wanted you to be.  I saw it then and I can see it now.  _"You're probably right about that," he admitted.  "As you know, there's only one hotel in town and that's where I am.  Call me tomorrow and we'll see about getting together."

She rose when she saw him making moves to stand.  "Of course."

Aila walked him no further than the door.  Before he made his exit, he brushed his lips briefly against her temple.  It burned her like a five alarm fire.  

"Good night," he said.

After he did his fade, Aila didn't waste any time getting the hell out of the jail.  It was time to pick up her son.  

*  *  *

Pearlie Blane was a good grandmother to Ethan.  She spoiled him silly, but since he was her only grandchild, Aila didn't complain too much.  Ethan was glad to see her.  Although Granny was good, Momma was even better.  He threw his little arms around her throat and squeezed tightly.  After recovering from the monster hug, Aila sat down for a few minutes for tea with her mother.  From the back bedroom, both of them could hear Otis Blane mumbling in his sleep.  He had suffered a stroke right before Aila moved back home.

"Are you okay, darlin,'" Pearlie asked.

Aila shrugged her shoulders.  "I'll live, I suppose.  I called Frank, Mom.  He's here right now and I'm going to tell him about Ethan."

"It's about time," she said.

Her mother had never criticized her on anything when it came to Ethan, but since the cat was out of the bag, what the hell?  "Yes," she said quietly.  "It is."  Aila grabbed her teacup and carried it over to the sink.  She rinsed it out and placed it neatly into the drainer.  She turned and glanced at her mother, but she didn't move away.  "I hope he doesn't deny Ethan.  I think that would kill me more than his hating me for not saying anything."

"Darlin,' I don't think he'll hate Ethan.  There's no way.  The boy is his son."

_No way.  The boy is his son_.  However, she remembered her dream and that man had been utterly livid.  She knew Frank and he would not take this lightly.  He would make her pay and do so every day of her life.

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**


	7. Confrontation

CONFRONTATION

Aila smacked her alarm clock when it began its angry singing.  She had been awake for most of the night wondering and worrying.  Frank was supposed to get in touch with her today so they could 'talk' tonight.  _Maybe he'll forget.  _Nope.  Impossible.  Frank never forgot anything in his life, and when he did, it was on purpose.  She sincerely dreaded it.  His touch [_kiss_] last night was something they did when either he or she entered or exited a room.  _Click_.  It all fell right into place.  It was wonderful, but scary.  Frank still wanted her and she had no doubt in her mind that she wanted him, but there was the issue of Ethan.  _I must remember that Ethan is first.  Whatever happens in the future, Ethan remains top priority, even if his father denies him.  _She kept the thought running through her mind as she went about the task of getting herself up for the day.  From her son's room, she could hear him making small noises here and there, indicating that he was waking as well.  _Something else from Frank.  _Ethan moved lithely and without sound upon waking or going to bed.  Her precious little one could sneak up on her and she would not be the wiser until he was right there.  Frank liked that ability he had.  How many times had she been sleeping like the dead and he would come inside the room without her knowing?  Dozens?  She rued the day when Ethan became a teenager.  Oh the hell Frank's parents had probably gone through reining him in.  

Usually, Aila was up and at it by this time.  This morning was a different story.  She could hear Ethan calling for her, and it was a rare day for that to occur.  She was in Ethan's room getting _him _up.  The laziness had come from her.  She never enjoyed being roused in the morning.  She tolerated it since she was an adult, but if she had her choice, she would choose sleeping in every damn time.  It was a small point of contention between her and Frank as well.  Well, actually, it was more along the lines of a pet peeve of his.  Hadn't he once, in jest, picked her up and threw her body into a cold shower?  Of course, he came in with her and the water heated up soon enough.  Ethan was just like her in that respect.  She often had to wake him up.  However this morning, he actually beat her.  He was a smart kid, so it wouldn't shock her if she discovered that he had sensed the discord in her.  They were very close.  Almost too close.  It was why she wanted him to know his father now.  She could have done this months ago, even _years _ago if she hadn't been stupid.  

Being unexpectedly pregnant had influenced her decision to leave only a little.  She had been weighing it in her mind for a few days.  Her mother had called with news that Dad was sick.  Some rat bastard wanted to take Dad's store and his interest in it.  That someone was Thurman Herren.  She had a connection with him, but not one that the town expected.  Dad had gotten into an altercation with Herren and had a stroke.  Her mother hid this information from her for several weeks before breaking the news.  Yet, the real damage didn't happen until Ethan was two.  He suffered a massive stroke and remained bed-ridden while distant relatives maintained the family business.  It was Aila who helped run the store and when some of Mom's cousins showed up, she stepped back.  She had bigger fish to fry.  The city government was corrupt.  Her ex-boyfriend had piddled when he should have paddled and Aila questioned his motives during a town meeting.  He was buckling under the pressure of Thurman Herren.  It happened a lot in Pineville.  Well, screw that.  She wouldn't let it happen.  One way or another, she would put a stop to it.  Sybil begged and pleaded for her to run for sheriff.  Voila.  _She's the Sheriff._*  _Speaking of Sybil_, she thought as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.  As soon as she had her shit together for the day, she would speak to her friend.  

No sooner had her feet hit the carpet than Ethan was taking a flying leap toward her.  God.  He was her little tornado.  He threw his arms around her neck and squeezed hard.  After effectively blocking off her air passageways, he leaned back and stared at her adoringly.  He knew exactly what buttons to push and he didn't mind doing it.  She ran her fingers through his disheveled black mop and kissed his forehead before he could run off.  He hated being 'babied' in public.  "_Macho little shit, ain't he,_" Mom often commented.  That he was, but so was Frank to a degree.  It just took the right woman to break him in, that's all.  Logan hadn't had the strength, but Aila had.  Or she had for at least a year, anyway.  Disgusted thoroughly for the day, Ethan thumped away in his bare feet.  How the hell he could maintain himself like that, she would never know.  Pushing her feet into her fuzzy slippers, she ran after Ethan to be sure he wasn't tearing down her house.  On her way, she grabbed the phone to call Sybil.

*  *  *

_I'm stupid.  Flat out stupid.  _How many times had Frank thought this after he awoke today?  He kept the meeting with Aila short and sweet as he wanted, but he betrayed himself with the gentle kiss to her temple.  Aila wasn't an idiot.  She knew as well as he that those kisses were something they often did as a couple.  It amused Aila because of the slight height difference.  "_I have to get up on tippy toes to kiss you._"  To cure that, she often wore high heels.  He loved being near her, close enough to bury his face in the side of her neck, and inhaling her lovely scent.  Although neither did so in public, while together in private, they would dance without music.  It was horridly cliché, but they moved their bodies to the sound of their beating hearts.  After his marriage ended, Frank wasn't so sure he'd find another woman who stirred him up as much as Logan did.  He was wrong.  Aila gave him everything he craved but could never expect from his ex-wife.  She was tough as nails, but also so very soft.  She never nagged or picked or poked.  It wasn't in her.  And when he told Aila he never wanted to marry again, he was telling the truth as he knew it then.  Just before she discovered some of his secrets, he was on the verge of telling her anyway.  Yes, goddamn it.  Aila Blane owned a part of his heart.  Almost everyone who knew him realized that something was affecting his personality.  It wasn't just his kid.  It was a woman.  It was _Aila_.  He wanted to tell her about Darien because he was damn close to asking Aila to move in with him.  Any time he mentioned one slip of his past or his present life, the person to whom he confessed meant a lot to him.  Meant the _world_.  Instead of telling Aila about Logan and Darien, she had learned the hard way, and he nearly lost her.  In fact, he wouldn't have blamed her if she had walked out anyway, but he loved her, and he was fighting for her.  When he told his father over the phone about Aila, Terra had screamed, "_Oh Lord!  My big bro is in love!  Ma!  Break out the **good **china_."  Then what did he do?  He kept silent until the point of nearly losing her before he told her how he felt.  Before that, he had thought of proposing to her.  It was actually no more than a big joke between them.  However, sometimes jokes made were truly what the other wanted.  They were both scared of it all.  Scared of failing, of living together on a much more permanent basis, of having children, and on and on.  

The day he intended to propose to her wasn't actually the first time he had tried.  He'd actually bought the ring not long after Aila learned of his daughter.  He introduced her to Darien tentatively, thinking that his daughter might not quite adjust to another adult woman.  She had her mother, grandmother, and Aunt Terra most immediately in her life.  What did she need with another?  However, Darien took to her quickly, becoming fascinated with Aila's hair and eyes.  "_Your hair is black, like Daddy's_" was the first sentence out of Darien's mouth.  After that, it was uphill at a fairly slow, but steady pace.  It was working exactly according to plan.  Therefore, he thought it might be time to step up his plan.  And then when Aila was shot, his plan went into overdrive.  He loved this woman, had no desire to lose her, and would ask her to marry him come hell or high water.  Unfortunately, Aila didn't feel the same.  He never understood the sudden coldness.  Just the night before, they were in bed together making mad love.  How could she separate into such different poles so quickly?  He had never understood that.  But then, instead of staying and fighting for her as he had done the first time, he stepped back and let her go.  "_You're a big dope, Desmond_," Terra accused.  And she was right.  He was the biggest dope ever invented.  He should have stepped forward and demanded that she tell him what was going on.  They'd been together for a year, had lived together for most of that year.  They loved each other, goddamn it.  Didn't that count for anything?  Yes.  He admitted it.  Franklin Desmond Donovan was a big damn dope.  The only thing dopier was his name.  If given a chance, he would make it right between them again, even if she did have another man in her life.  It was the kiss to her temple that set it all off.  Oh how he longed for it to be so much more.  How he longed to taste her kiss just one more time.

_Shake it off.  Shake it away.  _That's exactly what he'd do.  He'd shake it away.  He had to.  Today, the team would speak to Sybil, the town treasurer.  She was apparently the 'witness' who saw Aila manipulating the books.  Frank was determined to scour the books with a fine-toothed comb.  He didn't take accusations against people he knew lightly.  There had better be proof and damn good proof at that.  Anything less wouldn't be good enough.  _You're blind to her, Frank.  You're completely blind to what she's doing.  Open your eyes and look, you bastard.  _No.  It simply wasn't true.  He _was _riding the fence, goddamn it, and doing nothing else.  He and the team spent a good five hours last night going over their roles in this investigation.  Although Cody and Monica knew everything about his connection with Aila, neither of them said a word to Jake or Alex.  He would never express the gratitude he felt at that simple, unspoken gesture.  However, there was a job to be done.  If they later found Aila innocent, then things could progress from there.  _Go on, go on, go on._  He couldn't allow Aila to shift his focus.  It was time to make their moves just as they did with any other case.  _The perp in question has never been a former lover, has she?_  Frank grumbled incoherently toward the bathroom.  Today, he would need a scalding hot shower.

*  *  *

Aila stood back beside her Bronco in Sybil's front yard.  When Sybil hadn't answered her phone, she jumped into her Bronco and drove out to her house.  She knew it was early, but Sybil was always up, because her shop opened at 10.  Aila walked around the circumference of her house and still saw no signs of life.  What the hell was this?  Sybil was avoiding her?  Oh God.  She knew what that meant.  She should have known what it meant last night.  Sybil was doing something not so good to the city funds.  Aila turned around and went back to her Bronco.  Perhaps she could scare up Mayor Allred and a few of the council members [since half of them worked at City Hall].  Her departure wasn't unnoticed.  Sybil was inside and she picked up her phone and made a short [but sweet] phone call.

Allred watched as Aila parked her Bronco in her assigned slot.  His 'niece and nephew' were seated in the same room with Monica, the new dispatcher.  Aila entered through the back, as was her custom.  She thought nothing of the strange comings and goings.  However, she was going to sit down and go through the books again before she confronted Sybil.  Aila looked around the front of the jail.  The console was vacated.  Beck wasn't in and Mildeen wasn't behind the counter.  What the hell was going on?  Where was her fucking staff?  She whipped around when she heard people entering.  Allred was escorting an attractive African-American woman into the room.  Wasn't she the one with Frank yesterday?

"Where's Beck and Mildeen," Aila asked suspiciously as she eyed the two people.

"Mildeen called in sick and I sent Beck to Kansas City for a new cruiser.  Matt's taking his place later today.  This here is Monica Harris.  She's going to be filling in for Mildeen until she's better."

What was this?  When Mildeen was sick, they never hired a replacement.  Pineville wasn't busy enough to hire backups.  Something wasn't right.  To her immediate right just behind the mayor, Aila saw two people lurking about.  "Who are they," Aila asked, nodding toward the two strangers.

"Oh, they're my niece and nephew in-law, Alice and James.  Come on in, kids."

His niece and nephew in-law?  What the hell?  Since when did his relatives follow him around like that?  Since when did _anyone _come to Pineville unless someone had died?  The longer she stood here, the more she was convinced that this was some type of elaborate setup and she was bound to take the fall.  All of them were in on it, probably her parents as well.  Yet, she didn't want to sound completely paranoid.  She needed answers and she damn well wanted to find Frank to get them.  Whatever was going on had something to do with Frank.  And all along, she thought he had come to her because of her plea.  He had no interest in her.  None at all.  He was doing his fucking job and nothing else.  At first she was so angry she wanted to scream at them all.  However, she downplayed it.  She had to stay cool.  She didn't know the three people with the mayor, but she knew him and Frank.  _You used to know Frank.  What do you know now?  That he can still set you off by kissing your temple?  _

She nodded vaguely and remembered later that she had shook their hands, muttering a hasty, "Pleased to meet'cha."  Aila knew they were watching her, but she didn't care.  She turned around and went out into the bright early morning sunshine.  She vaguely heard the 'niece' muttering something that sounded like, "I think she's headed your way."

Frank received the message loud and clear and Aila was right.  Everyone was taking note of her every move.  She didn't care.  It was time to settle a score and settle it good.  As if on official business, she demanded Frank's room number, was given it, and then she made her way outside to find it.  He was expecting her and had the door open.  Just before Aila's fist connected with his jaw, his last thought was _so much for keeping this hush hush_.  He recovered quickly enough and had the greatest urge to return the punch in kind.

"You fucking son of a bitch," she bit through clenched teeth.  "You're investigating me?  You're fucking investigating me!  Why didn't you come to me and ask.  Why the lies?  Why this?  Why did you make me think…"  She stopped speaking.  She had nearly overstepped her bounds.  He no longer deserved to know about Ethan.  Fuck Frank Donovan.  "_How could you_," she wailed indignantly.  Sadly, those words would soon come back to haunt her.

"Aila, please," he said.  She tried to hit him again, but he held her at bay.  Although she was strong, he could still overpower her if it was necessary.  "I'm not happy that you found out like this.  I didn't want anything of this caliber to effect you or your family."

She jerked her way out of his grip and stood back.  "Save the sanctimonious bullshit for the wide-eyed bleached blondes you bed.  Whenever somebody sends you out, it's a big deal.  I know that much about you, even after three years.  You wouldn't be here if you weren't investigating me.  Now spill it or get the fuck out of my town and take your goons with you."

He stood back with his hands on his hips.  The little bitch had truly clocked him good.  His jaw was starting to hurt and he could hear Cody's voice in his ear repeatedly asking him if he were okay.  God.  Was there any way to save the case?  He would have to put his trust in her.  Could he risk it?  Sick of hearing Cody's voice, he said, "Back out, Cody.  This is between me and the sheriff."  He then jerked out the earpiece and left it dangling.  Aila's ice blue eyes were burning with a fire he had seen one too many times.  She was going to light into him unless he did something.  "When you called, I assumed it was a cry for help.  I hadn't heard from you in three years.  Why would you suddenly call out of the blue?  I didn't understand.  But when the FBI received a call about your misappropriating town funds and channeling them to a drug kingpin, I began to listen to the urge to come to you."

"Oh, I see," she said sarcastically.  "So that automatically means I'm guilty?  Come on, Frank.  How could you believe that I would do something like that?"

Frank sighed and shook his head.  "I've seen the books and the evidence is quite damning."

She rolled her eyes.  She thought she felt tears rolling down her cheeks and was irritated when she realized there were rivulets cutting cruel lines down her face.  "Oh Jesus.  Would I still be here if I had money in the bank?  Goddamn you, Frank Donovan.  I can't believe you think I did it."

"I didn't say you did it.  I didn't say I believed it," he told her.  He didn't say he believed it.  He didn't say he thought she did it.  Of course, he also didn't say he believed she was innocent, either.  "If you're innocent, Aila, you'll help us.  Whoever took the money is inconsequential to us.  We want the kingpin.  We want Thurman Herren.  Do you know of him?"

She nodded.  Oh yeah.  She knew the bastard all right.  "Yes.  He nearly helped kill my father.  It was one of the reasons why I came back.  My father got sick and my mother needed help with the family business."

She was trying to distract him and damn if he wasn't falling right into it.  "And the other?"

"That must wait now.  I'm not going to stand here while a man whom I lived with for nearly a year accuses me of theft," she said softly.

"Then _help _me.  Prove to me that you're innocent.  Only you can do that.  And until you do, I must treat you as if you were a hostile witness.  If you leave right now, this case will stay in tact.  The true suspect will never know we're here.  Play the game, Aila.  I know you can.  Play it and save yourself and your town.  If you walk out that door, I can't guarantee I won't escort you to Chicago in cuffs.  I don't want to do that."

"No," she said.  "But you would."  She hastily wiped the tears out of her eyes.  "I'll do whatever you ask."  She would do it for Ethan as well.  "I know it's the Treasurer, but I can't say I know it has anything to do with Herren."  She turned around and moved toward the door.  His voice called her back.  "What is it?"

"Aila, I'm sorry," he told her.

"Me too," she said.  _And even sorrier for Ethan_.

"I think we should meet each other for dinner as planned," he said.

"I agree.  I'll see you here at seven."

He watched her leave.  _Goddamn it.  Goddamn it all._  

**_____________________**

To be continued… 

***_She's the Sheriff _was a short-lived show that starred Suzanne Somers.  That and _The Andy Griffith Show _helped inspire this story.  **


	8. The Dinner Date

THE DINNER DATE

As Ethan played quietly beside her, Aila fussed over her hair, makeup, and clothes.  Damn Frank Donovan for making her act like a fawning schoolgirl.  The best restaurant in town didn't require a dress code, so damn it, she wasn't going to push herself too far.  If he didn't like it, he could lump it.  She gave herself one last cursory glance before she picked up her boy and carried him into the living room where Lila awaited.  

"I shouldn't be out long," Aila began.  "No later than ten, if that.  If Ethan gives you trouble tonight going to bed, his favorite storybook is on his bedside table."  Aila knew she was fretting too much, but it was a rare occasion for her to go out at night.  She was usually home at Ethan's bedtime.  _God.  Let go already.  _"Anyway, you know where I'll be, so give me a yell if you need me for anything."

She could see the smile behind Lila's eyes, so Aila left before her babysitter laughed out loud.  Yes, she was a doting mother.  She couldn't help it.  Ethan was her first and likely her last.  Coupled with that, of course, was the accusation hurled against her.  What the hell was going to happen?  She didn't doubt that Frank would haul her away in cuffs.  Damning evidence?  What damning evidence?  Jesus.  Her ass was already over the fire.  How would she tell him about Ethan now?  If he doubted her innocence, he would doubt her son's paternity easily enough.  The boy didn't look enough like Frank for an immediately physical connection.  If he were around Ethan enough, he would see that he acted just like Frank.  How in the hell had she gotten herself into such a mess?  She shook it off and went to her car.  She hoped the old rattletrap would start and equally hoped it would get her to the hotel to meet Frank.  From there, the two could walk to the restaurant.      

_How can she still do that to me_, Frank thought as he watched Aila leaving a small, dark sedan.  She was wearing plain blue jeans and a royal blue button-down shirt.  Her inky black hair was spilled over her shoulders and down her back.  Goddamn, she was beautiful.  Blue jeans.  Simple blue jeans had the ability to set him off.  He moved away from the window so she wouldn't see him staring at her.  That's all he needed was for her to find out that he still had feelings for her.  He shook his head and stepped away until the back of his legs hit the bed.  If his balance weren't on key, he would have fallen flat onto his bed.  Not a good way to begin a date with a potential suspect.  When he heard a knock on the door, he moved to open it.  As soon as he had that chore accomplished, Aila had her opportunity to size him up.  He wore a dark button-down shirt tucked into dark slacks.  There was something missing about his outfit and it took a moment for her to realize what it was.  He wasn't strapped.  She had seen him without his arsenal before, of course, but it had been ages.  It seemed a part of his personality.  He was drop dead gorgeous, of course, and she had to fight to keep her jaw from falling to the floor.  What was she supposed to say to him now?  He was ready to arrest her for God's sake.

"Where we're going," she began, "you don't need reservations or fancy clothes.  It's two blocks east of here.  Are you ready to go?"

He gazed down at her shimmering ice blue eyes and could nearly drown in them.  "Yes," he said simply, stupidly.

On their short walk to the restaurant, Aila made idle conversation, mumbling about such uninteresting things as the town history, what buildings were what, and the fact that this was the smallest town she had ever lived in.  All the while, Frank said nothing.  He listened to her droning voice and had managed to shut it out.  He wasn't interested in this.  He was interested in finding out about her life, what she had done since leaving him, _why _she had left him.  He also wanted her to prove to him that she didn't launder any money to a drug kingpin.  He refused to believe she would take such scum into her bed.  Aila wasn't the type to be attracted to men like Thurman Herren.  Enough time had passed for her to change, of course, but not that much.  Just before they were inside the restaurant, Aila cut off the talking, and they entered the small building quietly.  Several people recognized her and shouted hearty 'hellos' her way.  Frank said nothing as he continued to follow her.  

The inside of the restaurant looked like a cleaned out barn with several tables and booths scattered about.  The floor was hardwood and nearly covered with peanut shells.  In fact, when the server took Aila and Frank to their table, she grabbed a small bucket of peanuts on her way.  After they were seated and their drink orders taken, Aila dug into the peanut bucket and shelled one.  She popped the meat into her mouth and then raked the shell off onto the floor.  There was very little going on and it made Frank uncomfortable.  Without thinking, and desperately needing something to do with his hands, he grabbed a peanut.

"Can I say something to you," Frank asked after he shelled the nut.  He felt almost guilty shoving the shell onto the floor.

"You just did, didn't you," she asked with a lifted eyebrow.  She watched as he made a face before he raked off the shell.  "Some things never change," she said with a slight smile.

"Seriously, Aila.  You shouldn't be making jokes right now.  What I'm saying is, I don't want you approaching your treasurer.  I think we should leave things as they are and make the treasurer believe that she's in the clear.  That way, we can move more freely."

She nodded and grabbed up another peanut.  "I understand, but this is serious shit.  I don't know how easily I can deal with Sybil.  Not only is she the town's treasurer, she's my best friend."  She laughed bitterly.  "Well, actually, she _was _my best friend.  I suppose she's nothing to me now."  She popped the peanuts into her mouth and raked off the shells.  "Goddamn it, Frank.  We were together for a year and I hate that you doubt my innocence.  Even though you're talking like that, you're still not sure, are you?  You're waiting for one of your people to give you the all clear, and then you would be on me faster than I could blink."

"Do you think I enjoy doubting your innocence after all that we went through?  I don't, Aila.  I don't at all.  I simply want you to avoid the treasurer.  The case must work as it is or we'll lose the person totally."

"I understand," she said as she worked through her third and fourth peanuts.  "So, no talking about this to the person responsible.  Goody.  I can handle that.  Good thing you _ordered _that," she began sarcastically.  "I might have had to speak to her up close and personal.  I have a [_child to raise_] lot riding on my job.  It's not the power, but…something else."

Frank reached for a peanut and played with it for a few moments.  He studied her cautiously.  It was obvious she was hiding something from him, but he had no idea what.  It wasn't the behavior of one guilty of what she had been accused.  It was that of one hiding secrets.  He gazed at her another long moment [Her thinking:  _I wish he would stop that_] before cracking the shell on the peanut.  Without the blink of an eye, he popped the meat into his mouth and didn't seem to have so many qualms about brushing the destroyed shell off onto the floor.  "I know you do and that's why we're here.  It's why I wanted to see you tonight."  _Liar_.  There were dozens of reasons why he wanted to see her tonight and this was only one.  Tentatively [he hated being tentative about _anything_], he focused his eyes on her face again.  This time, her ice blue eyes were questioning him, as if she sensed his tentativeness.  _She probably does.  _"For what it's worth, Aila, I think you're innocent.  It has nothing to do with the fact that we were once close [_…you call almost being engaged **close**…_]."

Aila sensed that he had almost said something else, the question she had been expecting since he first called her.  _Why did you leave me three years ago_?  Instead, he confessed he didn't believe she was guilty.  She actually didn't know how she felt about that.  Was she happy to hear he no longer doubted her or was she disappointed to note that he didn't ask the question she longed to hear so she would be forced to tell him about Ethan?  Hands down, she would have to tell him.  However, her plans for the gentle way of dealing with it had all been shot to hell.  "I'm glad you feel that way.  I'll do whatever it takes to clear my name on the books.  Your saying you believe me isn't good enough, because [_…because we have a son, Frank, and I care more about clearing my name for him than for this shitty job or town…_] I don't want this hanging over my head like a black cloud.  As angry as I am right now, I care enough about this town to find the _real _culprits."  _What the hell am I talking about?  Do **I **even know?_

_What the hell is she saying_, Frank thought.  Her words and thoughts were completely disorganized as if she were a schizophrenic patient suffering a relapse.  A bitter smile touched his lips.  "I never figured you would allow yourself to become so worried about what others thought of you.  When I first spoke to you, I didn't think much about you had changed.  But I see that I'm wrong.  You're not the Aila Blane I left three years ago.  I thought you hated small towns and small town lives?  Now you're talking like you were raised this way and you want to stay the same.  Is that true?  Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Oh ho," she said, matching his bitter smile.  "Look at this."  How the hell could he sit here and criticize her?  He hadn't been alone and pregnant.  He hadn't had to live day in and day out with a child who brought back memories of him every second.  He hadn't had to experience any of this.  And now, he sat before her so smug.  "Talk about people not changing.  Look in the mirror at Frank Donovan.  Look, Frank, bottom line is, it's very important for me to get my name clear on paper.  I have my reasons and soon enough, I'll share, if you want to hear.  I didn't want to spend tonight arguing.  God, I don't have the energy for it.  Can we order before I finish every peanut in this bucket?"

He nodded.  _Avoid me all you want, but I'll get the answers I deserve.  _"Of course."

Throughout the rest of dinner, the conservation remained light and guarded with a pick and a poke added here and there for good measure.  At some point in the evening, Aila began to loosen up and had forgotten to check her watch every two minutes.  When she finally did glance down at it, it was well past 10:00 p.m.  She swore under her breath.  She had told Lila she wouldn't be out any later than ten.  Now look at her.  They were finished eating, basically, and Aila had gone back to picking at the peanut bucket while Frank had worked through his third [_…or was it fourth…_] draft beer.  Amused, she noted that he wouldn't touch that stuff unless forced.  She made moves to leave the restaurant and Frank followed her lead, but seemed more than confused at her sudden, erratic behavior.  They began the short walk back to the hotel and Aila was surprised that Frank wasn't falling over drunk, but he maintained his alcohol tolerance fairly well.

When they reached his door, Aila turned away to get to her car, but she soon felt the steel clamp of his hand around her forearm.  It didn't hurt, but he was holding on steadily.  "Come in for a minute," he said.  "I think we should talk."

For Pete's sake, she had to relieve the babysitter.  Lila probably thought she had run off and joined the circus or something.  "Oh no you don't," she commented lightly.  "You're not getting me in there, not with all that beer you drank."

He afforded her a half smile before he shook his head.  "Aila, they were near beers."

"Oh, _near beers_.  I see.  Bullshit.  Good night, Frank.  We can finish this tomorrow morning."

His grip did not let up.  "No.  It has to be tonight or I'm going to lose my mind.  Please, come in.  I promise to behave."

"Okay," she said.  "Five minutes and then I really have to leave."

Aila entered the hotel room and glanced around at its interior.  There wasn't much choice of a place to sit.  It was either the bed or at the table.  She chose the table as Frank disappeared into the bathroom.  Dear God.  He was half on his way to being flat out drunk, but he insisted he was sober.  She knew what was going to happen, but she wouldn't let it progress any further than necessary.  She spied the phone and quickly descended upon it.  When Frank reentered the room, he noticed that Aila had just hung up the phone.

"I was checking on my father," she said as she made her way back to the table.

Frank nodded and pulled out a chair.  "Did something happen to him," he asked as he sat down near her.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh.  At least this wouldn't be a lie.  "Lots.  The reason I know Thurman Herren is because he was trying to take my father's business so he could launder money and sell drugs.  Dad didn't go for it.  He had a small stroke and then later, a large one.  He probably won't recover."

When he saw the vacant look in her eyes, he longed to hold her.  "I'm sorry, Aila."  He reached out to take her hand and she allowed him without much fuss or muss.  "Is that the reason you left?"

She nodded.  "Yes," she whispered.  "One of them."

"The other?"

She had waited three long years for this moment.  Not the time.  Not the time.  "I'm not ready to tell you about that one yet."  She leaned back in her chair so that his hand would fall away from hers.  "What about you, Frank?  What's your life like now?  What are you doing?"

He didn't allow her evasive move to disrupt his thoughts at all.  It was actually what he had been expecting her to do.  "I branched out in the FBI, special operations.  As far as my life, it's good.  My daughter is still in it, brightening it every day.  She keeps me sane and grounded.  She shows me what life is truly about."

"No wife?  No girlfriend?"

He smiled a little.  "Does the thought make you jealous?"

She blushed.  Oh Jesus.  He did it to her.  He actually did it to her.  "No," she said, meaning 'yes.'  "It doesn't.  Well…do you?"

He shook his head.  "No.  What about you?"

She stuck her tongue out at him for a very brief moment.  "No wives or girlfriends, but I suppose you can say I have something of a male influence in my life.  Not a husband or serious boyfriend, though."

"He's a lucky man," Frank said, the light in his eyes dying just a little.

"Now look who's jealous," she said with a small smile.

"You caught me," he admitted.  "A long romance is hard to forget."  He cleared his throat and fidgeted in his chair.  "Your other reason for leaving, Aila.  Tell me."

She shook her head.  "I can't, Frank.  It would take too long and I truly need to get home."

As she stood, he took hold of her arm.  Before she knew what was happening, his body was pressed against hers.  She felt every line and muscle of his body, noting that nothing about _that _had changed one iota.  "No you don't.  If you didn't call me for help, then why did you call?  What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Really, Frank, I must go," she said, her bottom lip quivering.  She was scared shitless.  He wanted her.  She could see that easily.  "I'll tell you, but in due time.  Right now, I'm running very, very late."

As much as their first kiss, he garnered his take-charge attitude to allow his lips to take hers almost brutally.  Later, he would wonder if it was the beer or just the sheer idea of missing her so much that made him so forceful with her.  However, right now, he was thinking of nothing but her kiss.  She fought for only a moment before she gave in to his demanding lips.  The moment his tongue touched her, she opened her mouth to accept it into hers.  God.  He was always such a good goddamn kisser.  Neither too wet nor too dry.  Just right, Goldilocks.  An audible grunt left her when her back hit the wall.  Oh fuck it.  She couldn't win this battle.  Using the wall as leverage, she moved enough where she could wrap her legs around his waist.  By that time, his mouth had begun to assault the slice of flesh her button-down shirt revealed.  That was when the battle became real to her again.  Although she wanted him more than she could fathom, she didn't want to complicate the issue further by sleeping with him.

"Frank, we can't…we can't do this," she whispered.

"Yes we can," he answered against her skin.  "We can do whatever we want.  No one has to know."

"_We _would know.  Please, Frank, let me leave.  Please."

Wanting her as much as he did, he couldn't go against her pleading.  He knew she wanted him.  He could feel it radiating from her pores.  Fighting himself immensely, he gently eased her down to her feet and stepped back several steps in kind.  Her shirt was disheveled and half the buttons were undone.  He couldn't actually remember doing that to her.  His neck burned with each nipping bite she had bestowed on him during some point he also couldn't recall.  He watched as she silently readjusted her clothing.  God.  She was left alone with him for a mere few seconds, what if it happened again?  Terra had been right all along.  He still loved her, still wanted every inch of her.  He fucking hated it when his sister was right.

"Aila, I'm sorry," he said.  He wasn't sorry.  It was a lie, a big fat lie.  "I didn't want to push."

"You didn't push.  We both kind of shoved," she told him.  "You were right earlier when you said it's hard to leave a long relationship behind, but we did.  I can't say I don't have regrets, but I think I would have if we had gone to bed together tonight."

_No.  I refuse to believe that.  The only regret I have right now is not making a move three years ago.  I must be the dumbest man on earth.  I will never forgive myself.  _"It's okay," he finally managed.  

Aila moved quickly toward the door.  "Good night, Frank.  I promise to tell you everything when the time is right.  In the meantime, you can catch me at the Sheriff's office until they fire me."

Frank stood back and watched Aila walk out on him.  God what he wouldn't give for another moment to taste her kiss.  Perhaps then, he could convince her that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Aila stumbled out to her car and managed to insert the key into the door.  She thought she was going to be sick and it was sickness so very close to that which attacked her in the first few months of her pregnancy.  It was insane, and the longer she stood outside, the sicker she felt.  She ducked into her car and clipped the seatbelt across her body.  She couldn't believe the predicament she had gotten herself into.    

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**           


	9. Frank Meets Ethan

FRANK MEETS ETHAN

Neither Frank nor Aila had a good night's sleep when they finally tucked themselves into bed.  With Aila, Ethan was unsettled and cranky for hours on end [this according to Lila] until she finally made it home.  She had spent the better part of the night soothing him and he was beginning to get a whopping case of the sniffles.  That didn't sit well with him, either.  Normally, he wasn't a whiny sort of child, but tonight, it was the only thing he could muster the energy to do.  He was in discomfort damn it, and he was making sure his mother knew about it.  She decided to call the doctor and have him phone in some type of prescription.  Ethan had been prone to these types of outbreaks before.  Aila would get no sleep.  Not only did she have issues to deal with regarding her son, she also had issues of her own to deal with as well.  Frank goddamn Donovan.  His kiss, touch, and taste.  Why in the hell had he done that to her?  It had reinforced nothing for her but longing that would never see an end.  Jesus.  What was she going to do?  She wouldn't let him know it, of course, but she had been damn close to letting him have her.  But the moment an image of her son came into her mind, she shoved it back.  She wouldn't start up with him only to betray him when she finally confessed about their son.  Aila fell asleep with her son in her arms [likely catching every germ he had and not caring a bit] and wound up late for work.

*  *  *

Much later, Frank would ask himself what it was that brought his attention to the woman and little boy.  However, before all hell broke loose later that morning, he was only focused on the two because they were ahead of him in line.  He was having one of his bad headaches and had stupidly gone off without his prescription.  He had phoned his doctor who called in the prescription for him here.  All that he was concerned with right now was relief.  Aila had driven him insane last night with nothing more than a kiss.  Afterwards, she had left him dry and wanting more.  Her wanting, her _need _was obvious.  The 'man' in her life apparently didn't hold all the keys to her heart.  There was space for him somewhere in there.  It wasn't hard to sense and he wasn't an idiot.  It had taken all of two seconds to discern.  How long had he stayed awake after she left?  Four hours or eight?  He hadn't slept and today, he felt like shit.  Hell, even the kid ahead of him in line seemed worn out.  Maybe he knew Aila as well.  

Once again, he focused his attention on the child and noticed that he was resting his cheek against the woman's shoulder.  Inherently, he had known the child didn't belong to her.  In fact, the boy reminded him a little of Darien when she was that age.  He looked a little under the weather, feverish.  Frank shook his head a little and wondered what it was about kids that set him off.  He didn't know this kid any more than he knew any other kid in the store.  Yet, he was already concerned for him and his well being.  Perhaps it was time for him to text message his daughter.  Almost reluctantly, he drew his attention away from the boy and back on his headache.  He couldn't understand why it was taking so long to get through this line.  Frank suddenly snapped to attention when he heard the woman mention 'Aila Blane.'  His eyes grew even larger when he heard the pharmacist say, "This should knock her boy's cough."  _Her _boy?  Aila had a child?  Frank studied the boy's face again.  This time, he did so carefully.  He was at least three, his age spanning the time that he and Aila had been apart.  _No_.  This _couldn't _be true.  He didn't have time to ponder the question in his mind.  The child [_…my son…_] opened his eyes, perhaps sensing tension in the room.

"You in Ethan's picture," he said wonderingly, as if he didn't believe it himself.

Frank swallowed a large lump that had formed in his throat.  _Picture_?  _What picture_?  "I am?"

Ethan was tentative, as if afraid the man would yell at him.  "You Ethan's daddy," he said firmly.

The boy had the most beautiful eyes he had seen since…_Aila's eyes_.  The male influence in her life had been her son?  Oh dear God how foolish he had been.  It all made sense now.  Aila's desperate call for help hadn't been one at all.  It explained her reaction to his presence.  She had called to tell him about their child and he assumed she was calling because she wanted him to pull some strings for her.  How foolish they had been.  However, the time for foolishness and flight was over.  Today marked day one, and by God he wouldn't leave here without answers.  Did he need this shit on top of everything else?  _Selfish bastard.  All the time thinking of yourself.  You're overlooking the most important factor here.  You have a son.  You have a son you knew nothing about and had him for three years._  Perhaps his head would explode in a moment and he wouldn't need his medication.  

Lila put her hand over Ethan's ear and guided his head to her shoulder.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "He does that a lot around men with your coloring."

"He's Aila's son," Frank asked stupidly.

"Yes.  Do you know her?"

"Yes I do," he said.

Forgetting his headache and prescription, he left the drug store.  In his wake, he heard the boy asking why 'his daddy' didn't hug him like 'his mommy' did.  He blanked it all out and began his search for Aila.  He found her his first stop.  The sheriff's office.  Aila gazed at him curiously.  Wasn't he Mr. Secret Agent Man?  He was breaking his own rules.  She thought she heard Monica taking in a deep breath as if she were shocked.  What the hell was going on with Frank?  Aila hadn't seen him so cold before.  An icy dagger of fear pierced her heart for a moment, but she ignored it.  She refused to believe that her story was still unscathed.  

"I need to speak to you, Sheriff," he began cryptically.  "_Alone_." 

Aila nodded and led the way to her office.  She barely had the door closed before his hand clamped down onto her wrist.  Within seconds, he spun her around to face him.  She had never seen him look like this.  It was horrid and completely indescribable.  Was he snarling at her?  Was that what he was doing?

"You have a very beautiful son, Aila," he began slowly, his words dripping venom.  He wanted to speak before she had the chance.  "Who is his father?"

There was something in his eyes.  Something that told her he knew the answer to his own question.  However, her shock won out.  "Oh God," she whispered.  "Oh dear Jesus."  She tried to wrench free of his grasp, but it didn't work.  "How did you find out?"

"I don't think that's a question you should be asking right now.  But I will ask one.  Is it true?  Did you have my child?  Did you leave, pregnant and alone, to come back here?"  When she didn't provide an instantaneous answer, he shook her lightly.  "_Did you_?"

"It's true," she answered meekly.  "I came home pregnant with your child and I kept it from you for three years," she whispered.  "I called you so we could talk about it, but you…"

"I found out on my own," he bit out.  "Three years, Aila.  Three goddamn years.  Why could you not say something then?  You knew at the hospital, didn't you?  I saw something in your face, in your eyes, and I should have known.  You were my lover, I shared my goddamn bed with you and I didn't know…I came to you to ask…"  He bit the last of it back inside.  No.  He would not admit he had been on the verge of asking her to marry him three years ago.  Not now.  Not ever again.  "Why did you do it, Aila?  Why did you keep him away from me for three years?  _Why_?  How could you have done this to him?  To me?"

"Frank, please," she whimpered.  "You're hurting me."

He released her wrist instantly and watched as she caressed the life back in to her chafed skin.  She watched him carefully, her eyes filled with both guilt and reproach.  Of course he was hurting her, because _she _had hurt him and he wanted to get back at her.  Knowing full well that she had every right to lock up his ass, he stayed put.  "How could you," he asked again.  "How could you do this?"

She stopped self-doctoring her wrist and then focused her eyes on him.  "You won't like my answer, because I don't know.  Neither you nor I was ready for marriage or a child.  I didn't think you would want him."

"You didn't _think _at all," he snapped.  "That was patently obvious.  Why would I deny my own child?  Good God, Aila.  I thought you knew me better than that.  Apparently, I was wrong.  I was wrong about a lot of things when it came to you."

"Now wait just a goddamn minute," she said harshly.  "_I_ wasn't the only one with a marriage phobia.  _You _told me time and time again that _you_ didn't want attachments or commitments."

"That doesn't extend to my child," he spat.  "What you did was stupid, Aila.  Misguided and stupid.  You were pregnant with my child and you should have told me.  Do you fathom what I've missed in three years?  I will never have that with him again.  Goddamn.  Three fucking years.  You did this, Aila, and you _will _fix it."

"You don't have to worry about that," she told him.  "I assure you that I'll fix it.  I owe it to Ethan."

Softening a moment, he asked, "What's his full name?"  He felt low and ignorant.  He knew nothing about his own son.  He wanted to kill her.

"Franklin Ethan Blane."

"You gave him my name?"

"I thought I owed you that."

"Oh no no," he said with a shake of his head.  "You owe me much, much more than that.  I intend to collect every dime."

She couldn't believe it.  Less than twenty-four hours ago, he nearly took her to bed.  Right now, he was acting as if he couldn't stand the sight of her.  "I know you will," she said quietly.  "I have only one request.  Don't blame Ethan for any of this.  He has always known about you.  There's a small picture of you in his room and he loves looking at it.  It would break his heart if you denied him because of me."

"Who do you think I am, Aila?  You know how I feel about Darien.  You have effectively placed me in one hell of a situation.  I hope you realize that, Aila.  I must go.  I can't look at you right now."

_Bastard_, she thought.  Yet, she definitely had it coming.  She wondered if she had the energy to go on today, but she had little choice.  There was still the matter of Sybil and the books.  If she wasn't so focused on doing the right thing, she might pick up her son and run far, far away where no one, including Frank Donovan, could find them.  However, that was no longer an option.  Apparently, Ethan had inadvertently let the cat out of the bag.  Her sweet little boy's world was about to become topsy-turvy.  She would bring Frank [the bastard] to her home and slowly introduce him to Ethan.  His father had never been a real entity to him before.  Now, he was suddenly everywhere Ethan looked.  

She had to get out of this office, had to breathe some morning air.  She walked out of her office and noticed that the new girl's eyes were on her.  _She's not the new girl.  She's one of Frank's agents.  _What was her name again?  Something with an "M."  Aila didn't blink her way, she couldn't.  Actually, she was moving on autopilot now and wasn't aware where each foot landed from one step to another.  She would go outside and then find Sybil [the bitch].  Sooner or later, the woman had to show her face.

"Sheriff Blane, are you all right," Monica asked.

Aila turned her attention toward the pretty young woman.  "Oh yeah, I'm fine," she said with a smile to show her how 'all right' she was.  "Unhappy citizen is all.  I'll be back later."

*  *  *

Frank entered his hotel room and his first impulse was to destroy something.  However, he ignored that urge.  Whatever he destroyed, he would have to replace, and right now, he felt too damn selfish to reimburse anyone anything.  Fuck it.  He was pissed off at himself, anyone, and no one.  He went over to the bed and sat down heavily.  Who could he turn to now?  He glanced at his watch and then grabbed the phone.  His long fingers flew over the keypad as he dialed a number from memory.  Impatiently he waited as the phone began to ring.  When it was answered, the voice he expected did not offer its usual sardonic 'what you want' greeting.  It was a masculine voice, British by the sound.  

"Hullo?"

"I need to speak to Terra," Frank said stonily.  He still had trouble accepting the fact that his little sister was a grown woman now.  After a few muffled words and shuffling, Terra's voice came on the line.  "Terra, it's Frank," he said, telling her something she probably already knew.

"Why on earth are you calling at this ungodly hour?"  She drew in a sharp intake of breath.  "Oh man.  You're _there_, with _her_.  Aren't you?"

"Yes and no," he answered as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "Terra, I don't know what to do.  Aila left three years ago pregnant with my child.  I just now found out the truth."

Terra sat up and began to truly pay attention.  "Oh God.  She had your baby?  She kept it, didn't she?"

"Of course she kept the baby."  The anger left him for a very brief moment.  What was it slipping into him?  Pride?  Joy?  "He's beautiful."

"How sweet," she said, genuinely happy.  "And the problem with that is?"

"What you mean, Terra?  There's a hell of a problem.  She didn't tell me about my son until last night.  He's three-years-old for God's sake.  It's a big damn deal."

"Only if you're making it one.  You can't tell me you don't love her anymore, even after this?"

"Loving her has nothing to do with it.  I don't trust her anymore.  I can't, not after this."

She sighed.  "You just said you didn't know what to do.  I'm trying to tell you what to do.  Forget it, forgive her, and get on with your lives together.  You're still in love with each other and now she has your child.  I think it's wonderful and I would welcome Aila gladly into our family."

"What the hell are you talking about," Frank said.  "Welcome her into our family?  Are you listening to what I'm telling you?  For three years, she lied to me, Terra.  All this time, I had a son, and I never knew about him."

"How do you know she wasn't going to tell you?  Come on, Des.  Think about it.  Together, the two of you were so funny.  Neither wanted to admit that the other was hopelessly in love and ready to get married.  You tried so hard to maintain these fronts.  With all that fronting, you never gave each other the time to admit your true desire.  Think about that, Des.  Think about it before you shut her out."

"Terra, you don't understand," he said in defeat.

"No, I don't, and I don't want to.  Not if it means you're going to shut out Aila."  She sighed.  "So, tell me," she began, switching gears.  "What's my nephew like?"

*  *  *

For the first time since she noticed the books were off balance, Aila saw that Sybil's shop was open.  _It's about damn time_.  Without ceremony, she opened the door and listened to the irritating jangle of cowbells.  Why people still put them on their business doors, she'd never know.  Her head couldn't take the noise.  There were no customers in yet, just Sybil sitting back with her nose in the paper.

"Sybil, we have some things to hash out," Aila said, breaking the still silence of the room.  Sybil said nothing.  She didn't make a move.  Her nose remained in the paper.  "Did you hear me, Syb?  What are you doing to the books?  Where is the money going?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you about that, Aila.  Mayor's rules, not mine.  Now, do you mind?  I have a business to run."

Aila bit her lip and bit it hard.  She was tempted to call the other woman a bitch.  "Sybil, I'm your friend.  Whatever you're doing, you can tell me, and I'll help you as much as the law allows.  You can't let me take the fall for you.  What's going to happen to my son?  Think of him if you can't think of me."

"He has a grandmother," she said meekly.  "I don't want to lose my business…or my life.  Go Aila, before it all becomes reality."

"I won't let you get away with this.  I may lose everything, Sybil, but I promise you that I'll find a way.  When I do, you'd better hold on to your ass, because the first person I'm coming after is you.  I hope you didn't leave a paper trail behind, since you called the feds."

Aila didn't give her a chance to answer to that.  It was probably another reason for Frank to hate her guts.  She had spilled the beans in a big way.  It didn't matter.  Nothing did.  All she was thinking of was Ethan.  He was the most important player on the field.  Fuck Frank, the case, Sybil, Pineville, and the county.  She didn't need it.  In fact, she would do the mayor an incredible favor by resigning her position.  So what if it made her look guilty.  She didn't fucking care any more.  Taking her son and escaping sounded more attractive than ever before.  She jumped into the Bronco and made her way toward the office.  It wouldn't take long for her to type up her resignation.  

She was steadfast toward her task of the day when a familiar voice caught her off guard.  It was Frank.  He was compromising his case again.  "What the hell do you want," she demanded.  "I don't have time to take another tongue lashing from you."

"I have nothing else to say to you about that," he said.  "You know where I stand.  Where did you go?"

"I confronted Sybil," she said.  "She's a friend and I thought I could get to her."

"Goddamn it, Aila.  I told you to stay out of this," he said, his words lashing through seething anger.

"I could care less about what you told me.  I'm thinking of my son, of his future."

"If I were you, I'd check my use of pronouns," he told her icily.

She shook her head.  "You are such a fucking bastard, Frank.  I had all but forgotten that aspect of your personality.  Lots of things change about a person, but that will never change about you.  I'm only thinking of the right thing to do for _our _son, Frank.  Is that better?  Does it make you feel all giddy and happy now?"  She stepped right up to him.  Mere inches separated her body from his.  "_Our _son, _our _son, _our _son.  Does that make it any better?"

He had the greatest urge to throttle her.  He controlled it with everything he had in him.  What good would it do?  "It might have three years ago."

"Fuck you," she said through clenched teeth.  "Fuck you good and hard.  I hope your piddling case has been ruined.  That way, you're gone.  Chicago and a ditzy girl await you."  

She stepped away from him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  "I'm not going anywhere until you do the right thing, Aila.  Regardless of your lie three years ago, I do believe you today.  When I believe in someone, I'll do everything in my power to help.  Know this and know it well.  Nothing you do or say will send me away for long, not when it's my child we're talking about.  If you learned anything about me, that lesson should have stuck with you.  Is that clear?"

She jerked her arm out of his grasp.  "I'm not an idiot, Frank.  It's clear.  As for now, you can leave me the fuck alone.  If you're truly interested in _our _son, you'll come to my place tonight and meet him up close and personal.  For the both of you, it's been far too long."

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**  


	10. Ethan's Daddy

ETHAN'S DADDY

After her latest greatest trying time with Frank, Aila went back to her office.  She immediately took note of how Frank's agent watched her.  She wanted to tell the girl that all was as fine as frog's hair.  But that was a lie.  Oh well.  Too late to whine now.  She wondered why the ball hadn't dropped at work yet.  Thus far, they hadn't said word one to her.  Was Frank's team keeping her fanny out of the fire?  She had every intention of resigning her position, but in the end decided it was more selfish than self-less.  Her stupidity had hurt Frank once and despite her thinking him a bastard, he didn't deserve to be hurt again.  Besides, she had held him away from his son for three years.  Instead of following through with her plan, she radioed Beck, filled out a leave form, and hauled ass toward home.  She had to get her shit together to face Frank tonight.

When she arrived home, Lila was sitting on the living room sofa reading a book.  Ethan was down at her feet snoozing on the carpeted floor.  She ignored her sitter for a moment and kneeled down beside her son.  His face was still hot.  Good Lord, she hoped that whatever this was would go away.  Poor kid was going to be put through hell as it stood.  "Has he been sleeping long," Aila asked.

Lila looked up from her book.  "A little more than an hour.  The medicine doc gave him knocked him out, I think.  Poor little guy.  He saw a man at the drug store and called him 'Daddy.'"

_That's where he saw Frank.  Explains a lot.  _"That man _was _Ethan's father," Aila said blandly.  Hell, might as well spill the beans.  By nightfall, it would be all over town anyway.  She didn't meet Lila's gaze, but knew the older woman was about to burst for more information regarding this strange swarthy man.  "He's coming tonight to see Ethan.  Lila, I know you're dying to know more, but right now, I don't have the patience to talk about him.  I hope that's okay."

Lila was disappointed, but she wouldn't say so.  She was a busybody, but she genuinely liked the sheriff, regardless of what Sybil said about her.  "Of course, Sheriff.  It's fine.  Do you need me to hang around tonight to run interference if you and he decide to…"

Aila cut her off.  "No, Lila.  He's not coming here to see me.  He wants to see his son.  Nothing more."

*  *  *

Normally when Ethan was sick, he wanted to be left alone.  However, tonight, he hung onto his mother for dear life.  The doorbell rang promptly at seven.  Aila had spoken to Frank earlier and had given him directions to her house [_…or my house for as long as I have my job, that is…_] and asked him to be here by seven.  Ethan's normal bedtime was right around eight, but he was fussy and sick.  In fact, he hung onto her even as she approached the door.  There was no way to prepare Ethan for this meeting.  She hated springing it on the kid, but there was little she could do about it.  She opened the door to the bastard in waiting and cursed herself for thinking immediately that he looked quite hot in form fitting blue jeans and a white button down tucked in neatly.  Frank did his own unconscious once over.  Gone was the ill-fitting uniform with its bulky handgun and belt.  She was smartly dressed in black denims and an emerald green pullover sweater.  She was absolutely delicious, and he found himself longing to taste her again.

Up until Aila answered the door, Ethan wasn't paying attention.  However the moment he noticed another human being within close vicinity, he raised his head and peered at Frank curiously.  On automatic, she moved aside so Frank could enter the living room.  All the while, Ethan clung to her and goggled up at his father.  Frank couldn't help but gaze at the boy in wonder.  There were a few physical similarities between him and Ethan.  He again thought of Darien at three and he could see some of her in the boy as well.  He was beautiful and he longed to hold the boy in his arms.  Yet, the child remained aloof and extremely watchful.  The scene in the drug store had perhaps hurt his feelings.  He saw fear, wonder, and curiosity in Ethan's eyes.  There was so much going on and goddamned if he wasn't about to cry his eyes out.  This was too damn much and he once again found easy hatred coursing through his veins.  He shouldn't be meeting his son in such a fashion.  He should have known the boy all his life.

"Mommy," Ethan whispered against her neck.  "Who dat?"

"He's your daddy, Ethan," she explained.  

"No," he whispered again.  "Lila said he not."

"Lila was wrong, baby.  He's your daddy," she explained again.  "He came a long way to see you."

"Mommy," he whispered urgently.  "Ethan's 'cared."

It was absolutely killing Frank as he listened to the conversation being played out before him.  His own son was afraid of him.  How could he make up any time if the boy wouldn't give him the time of day?  Once again, he felt a fresh surge of anger develop in the pit of his stomach where it spread and festered.  He glared at Aila.  This was her fault.  Everything.  All of it.  Swallowing another huge lump in his throat, Frank said, "Don't force him.  It's okay.  I can come back."

"No, it's fine," Aila said.  "He's like you.  Standoffish.  Give him a minute."  

She carried Ethan to the couch and sat down.  Although she hadn't indicated that he should sit, he chose a nearby lounge chair.  Ethan's wide blue eyes were still fixed on him.  He was chewing nervously on his index finger.  _Aila_.  He had seen her do that on more than one occasion when something big was going down.  When he noticed that someone was watching him, he stopped chewing, but never took his eyes off Frank's face.  For hours now, he had been clinging to his mother desperately, as if he would never see her again.  Now, he took matters into his own hands.  Carefully, he climbed out of Aila's lap.  For a moment, he glanced between his parents to see if they were watching.  Of course they were.  His mother kept her eyes trained on him all the time.  And now, his father was doing it as well.  Ethan eventually found himself down on the carpeted floor.  Before he moved any closer to Frank, he sat down and began plucking through the carpet.  He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just killing time.  After several moments of plucking through the carpet, he brought himself up clumsily to his feet.  The fever he'd had all day had messed up his balance.  He noticed that Frank was still watching him cautiously, carefully.  His mother was as well.  He stepped over his mother's feet and walked around behind the couch.  The chair where his father was seated was close to the couch.  He picked his way behind the couch, poking the fabric for good measure.  He climbed into the small space between the couch and chair, avoiding hitting his father's shoe.  He climbed over Frank's feet and went in behind the chair.  Before he met the small space again, he turned around and went the other way.  Eventually, he was standing before his father.  He chewed on his index finger again before putting both of his hands on his hips.  He looked up at the tall man he had seen in the store.  He was the one Lila said wasn't his daddy.  After a moment, he approached the chair, moving in a little closer, giving himself room if the man decided to say something that would scare him.  He propped his elbow onto a slice of empty space between the arm of the chair and Frank's leg.  He then glanced up at the man again.  

While this scene played out, Aila sat amazed.  All day long, Ethan clung to her, making sure that she knew how miserable he was.  All it took to break him out of this was a visit from his father.  For a moment, Aila was jealous.  Frank had the same ability with Darien.  All he had to do was speak or say something to the girl and she was doing everything in her power to please him.  What was it about this man?  Damn him.  He commanded respect and got it without any fuss or muss.  It didn't seem fair sometimes.  When Ethan was cranky or showing out, it sometimes took sheer iron will to get him to settle down.  It was weird, but Frank had that going for him in a big way.  She never did.  She was lucky to have managed to raise him this long without doing some horrible undue damage.

"You Ethan's daddy," he suddenly asked with the air of a child who truly knew what the answer to his question was going to be before it was answered.  [Behind him, Aila shook her head and mouthed:  _Frank_.]

_Goddamn lumps in my throat_, he thought as he swallowed hard again.  "Yes, I am.  My name is Frank."

He cocked his head to the side.  "Fwank," he said as he nervously poked at the chair.  "Can Ethan call you Daddy?"

Aila couldn't handle it anymore.  She had to get out of that room.  She didn't stay behind to listen to Frank's answer.  Instead, she took off into the kitchen and poured herself a tall glass of water.  She killed it and slammed the glass down on the counter.  She preferred something stronger, but she didn't drink like she used to before Ethan came.  She hadn't wanted to watch that scene play out because the shit that had gone down was all her fault.  If she had told Frank three years ago, none of this would be happening.  She couldn't guarantee that the relationship would have lasted, but at least he would have known about his son so much sooner.  She wanted to give Frank this time with Ethan, but she also wanted to be there.  Her little boy had been sick all day and he needed her.  Yet, as soon as he saw Frank, he seemed to cheer up a little.  _He's not just your little boy anymore.  He's not this wonderful little secret you hid for three years.  Both of them are now aware of the other.  _God, she truly hated herself.  She hadn't had the guts to call her mother and tell her about Frank finding out.  It would come in due time, she was sure.  She had no idea what would happen in the future.  Perhaps allowing Ethan to know his dad was a good thing other than the obvious reasons.  She was being framed for embezzlement and nothing was worse than that.  If she went to prison, Ethan would have somewhere to go…if Frank wanted him.  _Of course he wants him.  If he didn't, would he bother?  _She had to make plans for her son.  Neither of her parents could raise a child as small as Ethan.  Frank would raise their son.  As angry as she was with him, she would break that long enough to talk to him, to make sure he understood Ethan would need a home if anything should happen to her.

Aila remained in the kitchen until the hour of eight.  She slammed down another glass of water before reentering the living room.  She was just in time to see Frank with Ethan in his arms.  He had evidentially been on his way to put him down on the couch.  Without a word, she motioned for him to follow her.  When they entered Ethan's bedroom, she saw Frank glance curiously at the photo of himself before he put Ethan down in his bed.  He leaned down and placed a kiss on the boy's slightly fevered forehead.  She backed out of the room and gave him a few minutes of privacy.  He joined her out in the living room a few minutes later.  He sat back down in the lounge chair.

"You've shown him pictures of me," he asked stupidly.

She sighed and nodded.  "No shit, Frank.  I wanted him to know what you looked like.  Despite how you found out about him, I was going to tell you and I wanted to ensure that he knew as much about you as he could understand.  I think I've told you that already."

"He's beautiful, Aila.  Inside and out.  You've done a wonderful job raising him," he told her, shoving aside his anger for now.

"Listen, Frank, there's something I think we should talk about."  She waited a moment before she spoke.  He watched her cautiously, readying for just about anything.  She wasn't sure how she could go about this, but simply spitting it out and letting it go was the best way.  "I'm not sure what's going to happen to me.  I know an embezzlement charge is a big deal.  I have no way to prove that I didn't do anything wrong.  All I have is my own set of books.  Depending on which judge we get, that could be suspicious as hell by itself.  I think I'm going to wind up in prison and I want to make sure you will…you can…take care of our son."

In disbelief, he gawped toward her.  "Aila, what the hell are you saying?"

She met his stunned gaze.  "You heard what I said.  I'm going to prison, Frank, and somebody needs to take care of Ethan.  My mother can't.  She has to take care of my dad.  There are no other family members within spitting distance who will give my boy the home he deserves.  You're a good father, Frank, and I can already see that you love Ethan.  Promise me you'll take him and take care of him."

As angry as he was with her for denying him as she did, he couldn't ignore the desperate edge of her voice.  Although there were no tears in her eyes, she was close to flat out bawling.  It wouldn't take long.  He left the safety of the lounge chair and sat beside her on the couch.  The palms of her hands were pressed against her temples and her elbows were resting on her knees.  She wasn't receptive and didn't give a fuck.  Gently, he took hold of one of her arms and drew it away from her face.  "Aila, please.  Listen to me."  

Reluctantly, she moved so she could look him in the eye.  She didn't want his touch burning her.  And right now, it was.  "Frank, please…yourself.  I know what I'm talking about here.  Any day now, they're going to fire me, and then no telling when, I'll be arrested.  I can't run or hide from this.  I'm in an inescapable trap.  You don't have to lie or mollycoddle me.  I know what I'm talking about and so do you."

"Aila, I know nothing of the sort.  What did I tell you the other day?  Remember?  I believe you.  This is not something Aila Blane would do no matter how desperate she is.  I'm not letting you go down for something you didn't do.  Do you understand?  I won't."

"Frank, for God's sake.  Can you play 'What If?'  Can you?  What if it happens no matter how hard you try?  I know you can produce miracles.  In fact, two of them are probably sleeping as I say this, but maybe, just maybe, you won't be able to keep my ass out of the fire.  If you can't do it, promise me, Frank.  Promise that you'll take Ethan home with you.  I'll do whatever you want with regard to him.  Paternity test.  Paternity acknowledgment.  Anything.  Tell me what you want, and I'll do it.  Just promise me you'll take him if anything happens."

Instinctively, he reached out and caught a tear with his thumb.  He didn't realize he was touching her cheek.  He was on automatic himself tonight.  Everything seemed…natural.  "Nothing of the sort is going to happen to you.  I know you expect the worst to happen.  I'll do whatever I can to help you and to keep you from going to jail.  But if you insist, I'll make that promise.  I'll take care of Ethan if anything happens to you.  I swear.  He's my son and I'll do whatever it takes.  I vow it to you."

_Whoa.  What's happening here?  _The feel of Frank's hand on her cheek was so gentle and warm.  Her hand rose up of its own accord and landed on top of his.  She turned in to his touch and reveled in it.  He had the best hands.  They were almost better than his lips.  Before she knew what was happening, his mouth claimed hers, and a moment later, she was parting her lips to accept his probing tongue.  What was this?  Didn't they hate each other now?  Oh God.  She didn't hate him.  She had _never _hated him, even when he uttered the most hurtful of words to her.  She _couldn't _hate him.  Damn her soul to hell, but she loved him still.  She was so very close to telling him how she felt, but she realized that he didn't love her anymore.  This was a desperate lust thing, just like the other night.  He didn't love her because she didn't deserve to be loved by him any longer, especially after what she had hidden from him.  Oh, but it was so hard to let him go.

She broke the kiss and pushed him away.  "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He sat back as if shocked and gazed at her.  "No more than I am," he snapped hurtfully.  "I think I should go."

"I think you should, too," she said.  "You can come see Ethan any time you want.  He has a sitter during most of the day while I'm at work.  I'll try not to be here."

"Fine," he snapped again.

Without a word, he stood and left her.  She shook her head and touched her lips.  What the hell did they think they were doing?  Would a roll in the hay fix things at all?  Hell no.  Why was he so angry?  She didn't understand.  He should have found dark amusement in his ability to still seduce her even when she thought he was a flaming bastard.  However, he wasn't.  He was hurt.  _Good going.  I did it again._  She hurt him because he still wanted her?  How could that be?  He had found no enjoyment in her since he found out about Ethan?  He didn't want her.  She had inserted that little fantasy into her own mind.  He loathed her.  He wanted nothing to do with her.  Goddamn goddamn.  Why was this all so fucked up?

*  *  *

Frank climbed in behind the wheel of his rented SUV.  He slammed both fists into the steering wheel at the same time.  It hurt like fuck, but he wasn't quite paying attention to it.  How the hell could he let himself lose control like that?  How the hell could he let her control it by denying him?  He was disgusted with himself, her, and everything else.  The only good thing about tonight was his son.  He had only spent an hour with the boy, but he was already head over heels in love with him.  The kid had just enough of the both of them to make an interesting person.  Despite the shit, despite hell, he still loved Aila Blane.  It was the only reason he had acted the way he did.  Why couldn't he tell her?  Was his male pride so wounded that he couldn't see what was right in front of his face?  _Goddamn her_.  She had _lied _to him about his child.  However, that still didn't drive the love out of his heart.  Why couldn't he listen to Terra and just ax the whole hate thing and tell her how he felt?  It was simple.  She didn't love him anymore.  If she did, she wouldn't have denied him like that.  It was the only explanation.  Did she simply pull his strings when she was talking about Ethan?  Was she?  Would she do that?  Aila had been a tease in her day, but nothing like this.  She wasn't manipulative like a lot of other women he'd dated.  _Goddamn her again_.  He turned the key in the ignition, brought the SUV to life, and then peeled out of her driveway.  Fuck it.  Hopefully after a long night's sleep, things would make better sense.

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**  


	11. The Two Sides of Sybil

THE TWO SIDES OF SYBIL

Sybil's life since she called the FBI had been a blur.  She often told herself she framed Aila to protect Thurman.  However, as the days changed to nights, she realized that it was her own ass she was trying to save.  _She _had written the checks, _she _had practiced creative accounting.  _Thurman_ had done nothing.  Well, Thurman had done none of the bookkeeping.  He had done plenty of his own stuff.  Thing was, she didn't understand why the mayor hadn't fired the sheriff yet.  When she first discussed it with him, he was intent on firing her the very next day.  Yet, here it was, two or so days later, and she was still sheriff.  It had everything to do with the people here in town.  Why had she been so damn stupid as to believe she would come out of this unscathed?  If Aila didn't peel her head, the FBI would.  She needed to get her ass moving before the sheriff came back for visit number two.  The longer she stayed, the more dangerous the environment became.  

"What'cha doin,' Sugar," a smooth voice asked.

She had been listening to it long enough to recognize it immediately.  She looked up and saw her lover.  She had completely forgotten she gave the bastard a key to her house.  "N-nothing," she stammered.  "Nothing at all."

"Babe, you wouldn't be lying to me, now would you?"

*  *  *

Aila slapped the clock to end its deafening wake up call.  It was morning once again, and she simply wasn't prepared for it.  As each day passed, her apprehension grew.  Although she would do anything to ensure her son's survival, she knew he would eventually be hurt by the accusations hurled at her.  Would today be the day she would lose it all?  Her mind played over and over again to last night when Frank was here with Ethan.  It was almost like old times again, with just an added element.  She had been so close to begging for his forgiveness and then telling him flat out what was inside her heart.  However, he wasn't receptive to that.  He would have accused her of being manipulative and that would have broken her heart.  She would have never forgiven him for that.  _As if it matters anyway_.  What the hell was she doing thinking of Frank anyway?  It was time to let it go and let it go forever.  Sighing loudly, she climbed out of bed and grabbed her robe.  It was time to get Ethan up for breakfast.  

Quietly, she entered his room.  As she expected, he was still asleep.  She touched his forehead and noted that it was a little warm.  After she roused him, she would check his temperature.  For now, she would allow him to sleep as long he wanted.  She felt guilty.  That was the thing.  She had denied her sweet little boy his father and she had made him pay.  It was wrong.  All of it.  She placed a gentle kiss on his fevered brow and then left his room.  She had intended to go to her bedroom to dress.  She actually made in there, but she did nothing.  Instead, she wound up sitting on the side of her bed.  She wasn't sure of how long she did it, but her eyes stared blankly at the opposite wall.  What in the world was on her mind now?  Of course, it was obvious.  She couldn't take her mind off Frank and Ethan.  And then, her thoughts would center back on Sybil and her betrayal.  Up until a few days ago, her life had been relatively simple.  She did her job and took care of her boy.  There was little trouble, but she always seemed to maintain it fine.  Hardly anything had the ability to shake her up for long.  However, she realized that it had all been a false sense of well-being.  Basically, she had screwed it all up herself.  There were so many 'ifs' involved here that they drove her insane.  If she had opened her mouth three years ago, none of this would be happening.  She had seen Frank with Ethan last night.  If she had told him she was pregnant three years ago, he would have been thrilled.  She knew this.  If she had opened her mouth, none of this would be happening.  None of it.  Why hadn't she said something?  It wasn't a fear that Frank would be pissed.  It was her own damn hang-ups.  _She _was the one who was afraid of _everything.  _It had nothing to do with Frank.  He never had trouble expressing his desires or wishes.  He never had trouble with _anything_.  She was the cowardly ass.  Hands down.  It _was _all her fault; both her son _and _Frank should hate her guts.  She certainly wouldn't blame them if they never forgave her.God.  What was she going to do?  She had to shove it aside.  If she didn't, she would lose her mind.  She glanced at the clock, noticing that more than fifteen minutes had passed.  Cursing under her breath, she went back to Ethan's bedroom.

Ethan was awake already and smiling lazily up at his mother.  It was apparent in his eyes and demeanor that he wasn't feeling well, but at least his fever seemed to be abating for now.  Aila considered staying home with him.  However, who was she doing it for?  Her son or herself?  Staying away from work was simply too easy and convenient.  Hiding wouldn't get her anywhere.  Look what it had done thus far.  She turned away from Ethan for a moment to dig out some clothes for his day.  Perhaps today, she wouldn't argue with her son and feed him his beloved Kappie.  When she turned back around, he was sitting up as if awaiting her, which he probably was.  She helped him get dressed, all the while his little hands pushed stubbornly at hers.  He wanted to do it by himself, but he just didn't know how just yet.  She thought he was so smart and independent for a boy his age.

Once he was dressed, he allowed her to pick him up and she hugged him gently against her.  "You are my beautiful little man," she told him before kissing his cheek.

"Ethan boot full," he asked.

She smiled.  "Yes, baby.  Ethan's boot full."

*  *  *

Frank rolled over once and glanced at the clock.  It had yet to go off, but it was about to.  As much as Aila before him, he smacked it so it wouldn't begin its screaming.  Normally, he was out of bed before now, but today, he was down.  If he wanted to get technical about it, he had been shot down.  Again.  He couldn't understand why he was so angry about it.  He again thought of her betrayal…her lies.  Goddamn it.  Didn't he hate her?  He didn't.  He hated to admit it, but it was the truth.  He _couldn't _hate her.  Not now or ever.  Although he hadn't been privy to the information in advance, she had had his son.  Didn't that mean something?  Didn't that tell him something about her feelings?  Yet, if that were the case, why did she shoot him down?  _Stop this.  Stop this right now.  It's not getting you anywhere_.  And it wasn't.  Besides, he couldn't allow this to sidetrack him.  There was too much going on, including the fact that he had a son to get to know.  What would happen with Ethan once this case was settled?  Where would that go?  Since discovering him, he didn't want to go on as if the boy didn't exist.  Screw that.  He _wouldn't _go on like that.  It was one more thing that irked him.  It was one more thing that made him want to hate Aila, even if he couldn't right now.

Frank sighed and threw the covers off his body.  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.  Outside, it looked dreary and cloudy.  Perfect.  It was exactly what he needed to produce another bang up day.  He left the bed, not bothering to try to straighten it up, and lunged for the bathroom.  If he didn't get into the shower, he thought he might die.  Maybe afterward, he would feel somewhat normal.  However, he wasn't sure he would feel normal again.  Not after this.  Not after meeting his three-year-old son.

*  *  *

Aila gave Ethan's warm forehead a brief kiss.  Considering what would transpire later, Aila should have stayed home, but she didn't.  She didn't think Ethan's fever would rise.  In fact, he looked pretty good.  She turned and left without a thought.  She drove to work without a thought.  She went into her office without a thought.  However, the moment she sat down at her desk, her mind went elsewhere.  She couldn't think of anything but what was happening.  Her paranoia was growing.  She swore that when she walked in, she could hear the FBI agent whispering to the junior deputy.  She was almost certain that they were communicating with the mayor.  It was time.  It was finally time for them to fire her.  It was time for her to lose everything she had, including her son.  Yet, she realized how crazy it all sounded.  Frank had promised he would help her and he would.  He wasn't a liar.  He was very true to his word.  So what the hell was eating at her?  As much as she had done earlier, she began to stare straight ahead and the time dragged away from her.  When she looked at the clock, two hours had passed.  It was time to visit Sybil again.  Perhaps she could get to the woman.

She drove out to Sybil's house and had an imperceptible lurch in her stomach.  She wasn't sure why she felt this way, but knew she should have turned around and left.  However, she didn't.  There was something going on and she needed to figure out what the hell it was.  Shaking all that away, she left the comfort and safety of her Bronco and approached the house.  She was still armed.  She felt stupid.  Sybil wouldn't attack her.  What was she expecting to happen for God's sake?  Shaking it off [but keeping the gun within her reach], she approached the house.  She noticed that the front window was open.  It struck her odd, but she didn't push it.  When the curtain blew out, she thought she saw Sybil sitting up in her favorite chair.  She called out the woman's name a couple of times, but didn't receive an answer.  Carefully, she reached out and grasped the doorknob.  It turned easily in her hand.  _Okay, Aila.  Get a grip.  Nothing is wrong here.  All is well.  You're just paranoid.  Move into the house, confront Sybil again, and have done with it.  _She entered the house carefully, watching every step.  Sure enough, Sybil was sitting in her chair with the back of her head facing the door.  Was she asleep?  _That's just wishful thinking, Sheriff.  You know what's wrong with that woman just as well as you know your middle name.  _Stealthily, she slid further into the room.  She again didn't know what she was doing.  She was out in the open, a moving target.  She called out to Sybil again, but received no answer.  She slowly unclipped her side arm from her belt and brought it up.  Since coming home, she could count the number of times she had to draw down on one hand.  This made the fourth or fifth time.  She wasn't sure.  As she continued coming around ever so slowly, she lowered her weapon.

"Oh, Sybil," she whispered.

She had been murdered, her throat slit from ear to ear.  Apparently, the killer had carried her in here afterward, because there wasn't a spot of blood on the floor.  Dear Jesus.  Why would anyone murder Sybil?  Easy tears came to her eyes.  Yes, Sybil had betrayed her, but goddamn it, the woman had been her friend.  Outside her mother, she was the first person in town who was nice to her when her pregnancy became obvious.  She was one of a few who didn't treat her as if she had some incurable disease.  

"Goddamn it," she bit out.  She was just about ready to call for back up when the phone rang.  Although she knew she should ignore it and call for back up, she couldn't.  Carefully, she picked up the phone.  "Sh-Sheriff Blane."  She cursed herself inwardly for stuttering.  Goddamn it.

"Why, hello there, Sh-Sheriff Blane," a jovial voice said.

"Who is this," she demanded.

"Why, your good buddy, Thurman.  I'm sure you found my sue…prise?"

"You bastard," she growled.

"Well, honey bun, you know all about bastards, don't you?  Since you got one and all.  What would you say if I told you I had your bastard?"

Aila's heart stopped.  Ethan?  He had Ethan?  What the hell?  It couldn't be true.  Just two hours ago, she left him.  "Bullshit.  I don't believe you."

"Believe me or don't, darlin,' that's up to you.  Take a chance and lose your boy.  Meet me in an hour at the old Phillip's farm.  I'll kill your kid if you don't.  Goodbye and sweet dreams, lovin' girl."  

_Click_.  "_No_!"

Forgetting Sybil for the time being, she bolted for her Bronco.  She couldn't think.  Couldn't do anything.  Her boy was in the hands of the devil.

*  *  *

Frank found himself at the sheriff's office searching for Aila.  He was about to bark an order toward Monica, but his cell phone rang.  "Donovan," he answered brusquely.

An incredible burst of static was followed by Aila's voice.  "He's got him, Frank.  He's got our son," she cried.

"Aila?  Is that you?  Where are you?"

"Fuck where I am," she cried.  "Didn't you hear me?  He's got our son."

"Who, Aila?  _Who _has our son?"

"Thurman Herren," she wailed.  "He killed Sybil and now he has our son.  I'm going to meet him now at the old Phillip's farm."

For a very long moment, Frank's world froze.  His son.  A son he had only known a few precious hours was in the hands of a bloodthirsty criminal.  One of his worst nightmares had come true.  "Are you sure," he asked once he found his voice.

"Goddamn it," she bit out.  "Of course I'm sure," she cried.

"Jesus Christ, Aila, tell me how to find you.  You can't do this alone," he told her.

"Watch me," she spat before hanging up on him.

Without thinking, without caring that everyone now knew about his son, he took his phone and dialed Aila's home number.  Surely, she was mistaken?  How in the hell would Herren have access to Ethan?  His fingers flew over the keypad.  The whole time, he was praying that Ethan's sitter would be there.  _Please, please, don't take him from me now_.  The phone rang twice, five times, ten.  No answer.  _No.  God no.  Not my child.  _

*  *  *

Aila drove past the main farm.  She knew there was several dilapidated out buildings surrounding the property, but figured Herren would choose the house.  It was the only structure out here worth a shit.  The only one that wouldn't fall beneath his feet.  If he had touched one precious hair on her boy's head, she would make his life a living hell.  She carefully exited her vehicle, ensuring that her revolver was at her hip.  She would make the son-of-a-bitch pay.  Oh yes she would.

*  *  *

While Aila was swiftly moving toward Thurman Herren, the UC team was slowly closing in on the Phillips farm.  Elsewhere, a sick little boy awaited his mother.

*  *  *

Frank's eyes caught sight of Aila's Bronco.  She had parked it out in the open, as if she didn't care whether she lived or died.  And she probably didn't.  He couldn't exactly blame her either.  Ethan was his son as well, and the first thing he wanted to consider was breaking through the fucking walls of every building out here until he found them.  Like Aila, he swore severe bodily damage to any person who hurt Ethan.  There were five or six out buildings strewn about the barren farm.  Without a word [he didn't need them], he commanded Alex and Jake to spread out.  If they could take the out buildings on the outside of the house, he could focus his energies on it.  Herren would have taken a hostage there.  It made perfect sense to him.  Herren didn't like discomfort, even when he was risking the life of someone else.  Just when the group had split up to reach the out buildings, Frank noticed activity coming from the house.

"I know you're out there," Herren called in a horrid singsong voice.  It grated the nerves.

Frank immediately stopped what he was doing.  "Back down," he barked into his earpiece.  There was no way in hell he would risk the life of his son.  "Release the boy," he half roared, half growled.  

Herren came out on the front porch, his feet bending the rotten wood.  It wasn't Ethan he held hostage.  It was Aila.  "I don't call this a boy.  Do you?"

Jesus fucking Christ.  They had been duped.  If Herren didn't have Ethan, then who the fuck did?  He couldn't discern the features of Aila's face, but she was holding onto Herren's arm tightly.  The gun he had was likely digging into her temple.  He swallowed a huge lump that had formed in his throat.  Aila.  Dear God, she couldn't die now.  "Come on, Herren.  You don't want to do this," he called back steadily.  His heart was larruping in his chest.  He could almost _feel _Aila wanting to speak.  _Please, baby, don't.  This will be over soon.  Just let me do my job_.

"Take me and let my son go," Aila said through clenched teeth.  "Give him to his father."

"Oh now," Herren said.  "Is that right, Sugar?  The big FBI man is the daddy to your bastard son?"

"Frank," Aila yelled.  "You promised to take care of Ethan.  Keep your promise."

Aila did the only thing she could think of.  She sank her teeth into Thurman Herren's arm and held on while he howled.  She thought she could hear Frank roaring at her to stop.  Well, fuck him.  Someone had to be there for Ethan, goddamn it, and she would accomplish the task any way possible.  If it meant dying, so be it.  How long did it take Herren to wrench her away?  Minutes?  Hours?  He succeeded and shoved her body ruthlessly down to the porch.  An immediate odor of musty wood and dry rot assaulted her senses at once.  She thought she might vomit.  As if moving in slow motion, she watched as Thurman Herren trained his gun on her.  She turned away from him and wrapped her body into a tight fetal position.  _As if that would help anyway?  _She heard the gun exploding, heard another roar from Frank, and then she felt a huge, searing pain.  It was pain she knew well.  She'd been shot.  What was even more amazing was that she was watching Thurman Herren falling to his knees beside her.  What the hell?  She knew what it meant.  Either Frank or one of his team members shot him.  He was dying.  She could see that.  _No_!  She still didn't know where Ethan was.

Frank flew to the porch to Aila while Jake and Alex quickly tended to the dying man.  He was almost certain she was mortally wounded, but tears of relief stung his eyes when he noticed a purely treatable graze wound.  Thurman Herren was one lousy ass shot.  "Aila," he said.  "Are you okay?  Can you hear me?"

Forgetting the pain in her shoulder, she rose up and began beating at him.  "Goddamn you, you bastard.  You killed him before he could tell me where he took Ethan.  You fucking bastard!  _Why did you do that_?"

Although it would hurt her, he took swift control of the situation and held onto her swinging arms.  "He didn't take Ethan," Frank said calmly.  "It was a ploy.  A cheap ploy to get you out here."

Aila wasn't having it.  She jerked her arms out of his hands and bolted toward her Bronco.  Frank was on her heels the entire way.  She ripped open the door and grabbed her cell phone.  There were nine messages for her.  Three from Lila and the rest from her mother.  Oh dear God.  What had happened?  Blindly, she dialed her voice mail number and listened to each and every one of them.  

Ignoring her bleeding shoulder for now, she focused her eyes on Frank's face.  "He's in the hospital," she whispered.  "Donovan, they took our son to the hospital."

**_____________________**

**To be continued…**


	12. More Than A Few Regrets

MORE THAN A FEW REGRETS

Aila didn't waste any time getting behind the wheel of her Bronco.  She didn't care if Frank managed to get in the vehicle or not.  All she could think of was Ethan.  She barely had time to blink.  However, Frank was there.  Right beside her.  It took twenty or so minutes to get to the hospital and Aila would be hard pressed to remember the trip at all.  She left Frank behind in the Bronco as she ran toward the ER.  He caught up to her readily enough.  

Pearlie Blane looked up when she heard the sound of frantic trotting.  It was her daughter, still in uniform, moving toward her at a breakneck pace.  Just behind her was a tall, lanky fellow.  She recognized him as Ethan's father.  "Aila, baby, just calm down," Pearlie began.

"Momma, what's wrong, what happened," Aila asked frantically.

"Baby, you're bleeding…"

"Mother, forget me.  Tell me about my boy.  What's wrong?"

"His fever kept going up and nothing Lila could do would break it.  She tried calling you, but you were out of pocket.  She brought Ethan to my house and she stayed with Dad.  Aila, baby, you look awful.  Maybe you need…"

"Momma, I…"  She turned to look at Frank.  "We want to see him."

Pearlie led the way to Ethan's room.  Aila covered her mouth with her hand.  She had never seen her son in a hospital bed before.  It seemed to swallow his little body.  She felt tears coming to her eyes.  If she had stayed home like she wanted, maybe this wouldn't have happened to her son.  She looked up for a brief moment and saw that Frank had gone over to the opposite side of the bed.  It was one of a few times that she saw tears in his eyes.  His eyes met hers and she felt some animosity fading slowly away.  He wanted to say something to her.  It was easy to see.  Yet, something was holding him back.  He became aware of the length of time she was looking at him.  The 'look' became something of a gaze.  When Aila realized that, she quickly looked away and then down at Ethan's tiny hand.  She touched it and he immediately grasped her fingers.  She closed her eyes and sighed heavily.  She didn't want to start blubbering in front of him.  It would only serve to scare him more than he was already scared.  She watched as Frank ran one large paw across his forehead, likely checking for signs of fever.  However, nothing made Aila feel better than Ethan's eyes coming open.  He blinked owlishly at both of his parents as if he hadn't seen them before.

"Momma, Ethan want go home," he said.

Both Frank and Aila shared a nervous, but relieved chuckle.  "I know you do, baby," Aila said.  "Soon.  Okay?"

As it turned out, Ethan stayed one day in the hospital.  It took heavy urging from Pearlie and Frank to convince Aila to see a doctor herself.  Her wound was no more than a graze, but it still needed tending.  The doctor on staff wanted to admit her, but she wouldn't have it.  She needed to be there for her son.  Frank also refused to leave the hospital.  It was awkward between them.  A new tentativeness had sparked amongst them and it was hard to describe.  It almost felt like the first day he saw her again, before he knew about Ethan.  Aila said goodbye to Frank at the hospital and brought her son home.  She wasn't sure how much longer the team would be in Kansas.  There was still a lot of garbage to clean up and Aila wasn't certain what she wanted anymore.  Thurman Herren was gone and he would never hurt anyone else again.  Yet, even that seemed like a dull victory.  The only thing she _was _certain of was that she wanted to get her boy home where he belonged.

Once she had Ethan home, she settled him in his own bed for a long nap.  It was then that her doorbell rang.  Unsure of the identity of her guest, Aila hesitated before answering the door.  She halfway expected it to be the mayor or some of the other city council members.  They were pressuring her to announce her decision on whether or not she would be running for reelection.  She wasn't sure she even wanted it anymore.  She wasn't sure of anything.  Shrugging it all away, she approached the door and opened it.  It was Frank.  She wasn't quite expecting him.  He knew she had just brought Ethan back home today and he had even said he wouldn't be coming over to see the boy until much later.

"Frank?"

Her blue eyes were gazing up at him with mass confusion clouding them.  "Do you mind if I come in?"

"No," she said.  "I don't mind.  I just put Ethan down, though.  He might be out for a while."

He nodded.  "I know," he said.  "It's you I came to see.  I need to talk to you."

She moved away from the door so that he could enter the room.  She wasn't sure what he wanted, unless he decided how he wanted to visit his child.  She said nothing as he moved past her so he could sit on the couch.  As if sensing it, he had chosen her favorite spot in which to sit.  It was bizarre.  What in the world was on his mind?  Did he want to fight with her?  She didn't want to fight with him.  She didn't have the energy.

"Could you join me," Frank asked.

She noticed that he wasn't quite looking at her.  "Sure."  She sat down beside him and immediately noted how tense he was.  "What is it, Frank?"

His eyes finally met hers.  "I'm sorry for all the hurtful words I said to you."

"I think I deserved it," she said lamely.

"Aila, you're not listening to me," he began.  "I didn't mean any of it.  It hurt and I wanted to hurt back.  Not once did I consider what my behavior toward you would do to our son.  I was thinking of myself."

"Frank," Aila began, trying to protest.

"Please," he said.  "Let me."  He sighed before he ran his tongue briefly over his lips.  "Something happened to me when I saw you fall.  I thought you were dead and I snapped.  The way it looked, your last memory of me would be one of hatred and bitterness.  I came here partly due to a case, but I mostly came to see you.  After three years, I couldn't stop thinking about you.  Day in.  Day out.  I wondered what I could have done to keep you with me.  Although I had no idea you were pregnant when you left, I can't blame you for everything.  I never made it easy for you.  Just when you were able to read me, I'd shift and push you away."

"Frank, you didn't…"

He took her hands in his.  "I did," he insisted.  "I came around three years ago and was finally ballsy enough to buy you an engagement ring.  I wanted to marry you more than anything, but you decided to do your own pushing.  I didn't fight for you like I should have.  For God's sake, Aila, you were carrying my child, but you were too afraid to tell me because of the way I was, the way I've always been."  He stopped speaking for a moment to garner the necessary courage he needed to complete his thoughts.  "The point of all this, Aila, is that even after three years, I still love you.  I lost sight of that just after I learned the truth about Ethan, but it hit me full force again when I saw Thurman Herren holding that gun to your head.  I don't expect a second chance or reciprocation.  I just had to let you know and apologize for everything."  

He released her hands and stood.  He had said his piece and now he was heading for the door, but she wouldn't let him leave.  Not yet.  She reached out for him and took hold of his hand.  She stood to face him.  "Frank, wait."  He gazed at her quizzically.  What was she going to say to him?  What was going through her mind?  There were a thousand things she could say and do, but she wouldn't.  After such sheer hell, he had made a startling confession to her, one she hadn't expected.  And now, it was her turn.  "I still love you, too."

Could he turn away after her confession?  He had thought all along that it was a fruitless fantasy that she could possibly still love him.  He hadn't lied when he said his wake up call had been when he saw that gun to her temple.  He had forgotten the betrayal and was solely focused on this woman he knew he loved more than his own life.  He wanted to ask her a dozen questions, but one stood out above them all.  _What now_?  Yet, he could see the answer in her beautiful ice blue eyes.  She didn't have to speak at all.  It was there, written clearly and wonderfully.  Without hesitation, without waiting a millisecond, his lips covered hers.

Aila moaned within their kiss and part of her wanted to push him away, but she couldn't listen to that part.  She listened to the side that still wanted him.  Everything that had happened in the last few days came crashing back to her.  As if sensing her pain, he deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth and he held onto her tightly.  He wanted her so very badly, wanted every inch of her, but he was so afraid that she wouldn't have him.  He broke the kiss and gazed down at her.  Her eyes were half-lidded and her lips slightly parted.  It was enough to drive him over the edge.  He touched her cheek, wanting to say something to her, but he was at a loss for words.  He had treated her so roughly.  Why would be believe that she would take him into her bed?

He began to back away, to finally get out of her life after wrecking it.  However, she held onto his hands.  "Stay," she whispered.

"Are you sure," he asked.  "After everything that I said?"

"It doesn't matter.  I love you."

He kissed her again and plunged his hands into the silky fall of her black hair.  The taste of her was incredible.  How in the hell had he allowed her to get away from him?  She broke the kiss this time and tugged on his hand.  He allowed her to lead him into her bedroom.  Standing before each other, they slowly began to undress.  As they began to reveal their bodies inch by painstaking inch, Frank realized that Aila had never looked so lush and beautiful.  When their bodies were as bare as the day they were born, she approached him for another searing kiss.  His large, warm hands wandered over her naked back and then down to her buttocks.  He cupped them for only a moment to press her lower body into his.  She moaned when she felt the length of him against her.  It had been far too long since he had last touched her, since _any _man had last touched her.  His lips broke away from hers and he buried his face in the side of her neck.  After inhaling her scent, his lips and teeth began to assault her flesh.  She threw her head back when his hands cupped her breasts.  A moment later, his lips encircled one nipple.  He drew the hardened peak between his lips and suckled delicately.  He didn't ignore its mate.  He drew it into his mouth just as delicately.  Before she had the chance to plunge her hands into his hair, he moved to kiss her again.  

At that point, she began to gently pull him forward toward her bed.  Their kiss ended as soon as the back of her thighs hit the bed.  He stood back and watched as she slid onto the bed, awaiting him and his touch.  Her wait was short, as he joined her just moments after she lay down.  Skin against skin, his mouth covered hers again.  This time, she didn't hesitate to plunge her hands into his hair to hold him in place until she was sated.  Oh, the feel of his skin against hers, the way his scent enveloped her body, his probing hands.  It was all almost too much to believe.  The kiss broke and his mouth moved from hers back down to her breasts.  He suckled each nipple again, taking his time, swirling his tongue around them as if they were the sweetest fruit ever grown on the face of the planet.  Eventually, he ended the torture and moved his mouth even lower.  Just above her navel, he whispered 'I love you so much' against her skin.  He didn't venture lower.  Instead, he moved back up to take her lips again.

Their bodies changed position and it was Aila's chance to make him squirm.  Her mouth attacked his flesh, her nostrils taking in the heated, masculine scent of him.  Her teeth made small nibbling bites along his neck, down onto his chest, and then further still to his flat abdomen.  His groans and growls increased the more she moved.  His hands were already in her hair.  He wanted to see her face.  Not once did he want it to be out of sight.  When he felt her breath on him, he swallowed hard and bit out a tortured command:  "Aila, don't."  She didn't listen.  He was immediately nestled in her warm mouth.  He drew in a hissed breath as her mouth began its wonderful up and down dance.  She didn't keep up her pace long.  She could sense he wanted inside her and she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be there.  She moved to sit astride him and she ran her hands along his chest, up his neck, and over his cheeks.  Although he would argue with her, she thought he was just as beautiful as their son.  She moved slightly to allow him to sit up.  

"Every day, I wanted you," he said.  "Every day, I denied you.  It was foolish."

"You bet your ass it was," she said with a smile.

He kissed her again and she felt her body drifting to the bed.  She arched her body toward his, giving him a clear indication that she wanted him badly.  From the feel of him, she could tell that he felt the same.  She sighed ever so slightly as she felt the tip of him easing into her.  Bit by bit, he pushed himself inside her until he was fully sheathed within.  Together, they moved slowly, allowing the passion to build.  Three years of unrequited need was expressed in their lovemaking.  When he met his release deeply inside her, he didn't immediately break their connection.  He couldn't.  It had been far too long and he loved her far too much.

When Frank could finally speak, he said, "I've still got the ring."

Her answer:  "I still have a finger."

*  *  *

Some months later, Aila lay back with a wide smile on her face.  Both Darien and Ethan were running their father ragged.  She couldn't help but laugh at her little family.  Agent Donovan with the guns and the badge was nothing up against two of his children.  The third was due in a few weeks.  Aila was sure this one would do her own share of harrowing behavior.  Aila was still laughing when Frank approached her and collapsed to the blanket she had laid out on the ground.  Under the close supervision of her father and stepmother, Darien was keeping track of her baby brother.  The two children were no more than a foot away from the adults.  They were in the park having a picnic together.  It had been Aila's idea, because as of tomorrow, Darien would return to her mother.  She and Frank wouldn't see the girl for a good bit of time and Darien loved taking care of Ethan.  It was hard not to indulge the kid.  Aila wasn't sure how the two would react to each other when they first arrived in Chicago, but after the initial confusion, Darien immediately prided her new role as a big sister.  Ethan was Ethan.  He simply found someone new to love, someone new to love him.  

Of course, Ethan had also taken to his Aunt Terra just as quickly.  Aila remembered that at the wedding, Terra had made it plain that she had bitched out Frank but good.  She also didn't make it any secret that she knew her brother had been pining for three years.  _I **told **him he was going to marry you, but he thinks he knows everything_, Terra had said.  _He kept the ring and everything.  He was crazy about you, but too ignorant to act on it.  Desmond the Dope._  Aila had actually put Terra in the wedding, and she had mouthed 'I told you so' toward Frank during her walk down the aisle ahead of the bride.  It was an exasperating moment for Frank, but one hilarious for everyone else.       

"I thought I was in shape," Frank said, panting dramatically.  "They're wearing me out."

Aila smiled and ran her hand over her swollen middle.  "And there's another about to make her entrance into the world.  I hope you realize it's too late for you to decide you're too old for parenthood again.  Perhaps we should have talked that night instead of…well…um…"

He chuckled.  "Okay, I suppose you're right.  Perhaps I can make it."

Aila focused her eyes on Darien and Ethan.  Darien was trying to show him something, but he refused to look.  Some other object in the grass, perhaps a grasshopper, had gotten his attention.  Every few minutes, she could hear his indignant wail:  "Stop, Sissy.  Ethan busy."  Aila had no idea where her son had picked up the word 'busy,' but he loved saying it.  He was growing more and more like his father by the day.  For a moment, a frown creased Aila's face.  All of this.  All of the sweetness was nearly taken from her.  It was a disturbing thought, but one that stuck in her mind.  Yet, all the drama had brought Frank back into her life and had culminated in a marriage and a new baby.  She hadn't expected either to happen, but she welcomed it.  None of it seemed touchable, but it was hers.  For the first time in her life, she felt settled and grounded.  

"Aila?"

She came out of her daze and focused her eyes on Frank's face.  "Yeah babe?"

"Are you okay?  Is the baby bothering?"

She shook her head and smiled.  Every grunt and groan she elicited brought on a new wave of worrying.  "No," she said as she ran her hand over her middle for the second time.  She was greeted with a swift kick.  Their unborn daughter was quite active.  Any day now, she would be born.  "She's fine and kicking the shit out of me.  I was drifting, that's all.  I was thinking about everything that could have gone wrong ten months ago.  It's not a pleasant thought, but one I can't shake."

"No, it isn't, but nothing happened," he said.

"No, nothing did, but Sybil didn't have to die.  I still don't understand that.  She had no malice toward me, Frank.  She just fell in love.  I can understand how powerful that is, but I never understood how desperate she was until I realized how deeply in trouble she was."

He reached out to her and took her hand.  He kissed her fingers, but didn't immediately release her hand.  "Stop punishing yourself.  You couldn't stop her.  You tried and she kicked you out.  Remember that."

She nodded vaguely.  "I know, but it still smarts, that's all," she said.  "I'm sorry for dragging this up again."

"Don't apologize.  It was a major part of your life.  One you won't ever forget.  Just stop blaming yourself.  You don't need the grief."

"Nope, you're right about that.  Any day now, I'll have my hands full enough to last two lifetimes.  I won't have time to think about it."

"No you won't," he said with a chuckle.

"Thank God for those amicable partings, huh?"

He kissed her forehead.  "No.  Thank God for new beginnings."

**_____________________**

Finis… 


End file.
